


You Are My World

by AppleSeeds



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Experienced Crowley (Good Omens), First Love, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Inexperienced Aziraphale (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Sexual Content, More like lots of wafer thin slices and a couple of chunkier ones, Pansexual Crowley (Good Omens), Phone Sex, Roommates, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27959699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds
Summary: This story follows Crowley and Aziraphale's lives on 21st October every year until the present day, after they meet at a formal dinner at university in 2003. Crowley is immediately smitten, but when Aziraphale doesn't return his interest, they begin a friendship that will eventually evolve into something more, with Crowley helping Aziraphale to figure out what he really wants from a relationship, and both of them falling in love for the first, and last, time.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 148
Kudos: 139
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. 2003

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to take a break from writing but this wouldn't leave my brain. I've never written a university AU before so I've had fun writing the early chapters! The Rope gets a very brief mention in chapter 1...
> 
> This is inspired by the book One Day, but without any of the angst - after they get together this is primarily just fluff/mild smut, i.e. just them being happy and in love in a healthy relationship, who needs more plot than that? ;-)
> 
> I won't be writing every year of their lives in detail - there will be multiple years in one chapter later on, so it won't be *very* long... Thank you to the NSFW fic discussion group on Twitter for their help and advice with this one! Hope you enjoy it! :-)

**21 st October 2003**

“Crowley, over here!” Eric shouted across the dining hall. Crowley turned his head in the direction of his friend’s voice, sauntering casually over to the table where he was sat. The dining hall had been transformed for the first formal dinner of the year, with gleaming fancy plates and cutlery laid out at each place setting, and baskets of bread with little plates of butter in the middle of the tables. It was dark outside, but some of the lights had been left off, presumably to create more of an atmosphere, enhanced by the flickering glow of the candles that had been set out around the hall.

“Hey,” Crowley mumbled, feeling slightly less ridiculous about wearing his suit (which he’d gone shopping for with his mum and only worn once before, for his cousin's wedding) now that he could see everyone else in their formal dress. Crowley flopped down into the chair beside Eric, sitting up straighter than usual, unable to get his mum’s voice out of his head, telling him not to wrinkle his suit. She would have had a point, after all, Crowley didn’t even own an iron (his approach involved wearing clothes so tight that his body smoothed out the creases for him), and he’d need to wear it again for the Christmas formal, less than two months away.

“D’you know Kelly and Katie?” Eric asked, nodding his head to the side. Crowley leaned forward and smiled at the girls sitting opposite each other at the end of the table on the other side of Eric, one of them giggling in response. Apparently _someone_ had started their evening early, most likely in the hall’s infamous bar, _Chapter 3_ , winner of dingiest bar on campus 2002/03, and from Crowley’s experience touring the other halls of residence, a shoe-in for 03/04 as well.

“Yeah, hi girls.”

There were two hundred students living in Genesis Hall, and Crowley hadn’t made much effort to get to know many of them over the past four weeks since they’d all moved in, but he’d met these two girls at Tropical Night in Fresher’s week, when the giggly one (Katie... _possibly_ ) had insisted on braiding his hair and threading flimsy plastic flowers into it, which she tore drunkenly from the fake lei draped around her neck. Crowley had woken up surrounded by fake flowers, clothes soaked through and sticking uncomfortably to the bed sheets, with vague recollections of falling off the surfboard simulator. Well, he wasn’t sure he’d call it _falling_ exactly, but either way, he’d ended up with bruises on his arse, and not the good kind.

“Aziraphale!” Eric called out, his body twisted towards the door. Crowley looked up, seeing a Genesis resident he definitely _hadn’t_ had the privilege of meeting before, and it most certainly would have been a _privilege_. Crowley’s eyes widened like a predator catching the first glimpse of their prey.

“Hello,” Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley raised his eyebrow. Four weeks in this place, how had he not seen Aziraphale before? He certainly stood out, with his soft light blond curls, cute rounded cheeks and bright blue-grey eyes that glistened in the candlelight. He’d really gone all out for the formal too, not just wearing a suit but an actual waistcoat and a _bowtie_ for fuck’s sake, with a tartan pattern on it of all things. _Nice_.

“Do you know Crowley?” Eric asked as Aziraphale sat down opposite him. Aziraphale met Crowley’s eye and his brow furrowed slightly.

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Crowley and I are on the same course. He lives up in the main block,” Eric explained to Aziraphale before turning to face Crowley himself. “Aziraphale lives opposite me in Eden Court.”

“Oh, another posh bastard, eh?” Crowley teased, instantly regretting it as Aziraphale winced. Eden Court was the separate block at Genesis that housed the expensive rooms with en suite bathrooms; no wonder Crowley hadn’t met Aziraphale yet. “So what degree are _you_ doing, _Aziraphale_?” Crowley drew out his name, enjoying the feel of it on his tongue. He wanted to feel Aziraphale on his tongue in a much more interesting way, mind.

“English Literature.”

Crowley was exceptionally proud that he managed _not_ to say, ‘wow you really _are_ a posh bastard’, instead asking, “How’s it going?”

“I’m enjoying it very much, thank you. Isn’t it wonderful to be able to focus entirely on the area you’re most interested in?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Crowley mumbled, having endured a two hour lecture earlier that day about ocean currents and wave dynamics as part of his Environmental Science degree. He had been persuaded by his sixth form careers advisor to study something ‘broader’ that would give him ‘more options’, rather than focusing on his true passion, which was botany. He was already considering applying to transfer. If someone could confidently study _English Literature_ without worrying about their career prospects, then why should _he_ be worried? Except Aziraphale lived in Eden Court and probably lived in a mansion back home with a fucking butler or something. Not that Crowley was judging, and that posh voice was doing serious things to him already.

The formal dinner included a starter of pumpkin soup (which Crowley had never eaten before, but whoever made it seemed to have dumped an entire vat of cream in it, because that’s pretty much all it tasted like) since it would be Halloween next week, and as he ate it, Crowley started mentally working on his costume for the HornSoc Halloween party, ‘ _Dead In Rome_ ’. This theme had been the result of a discussion during a meeting that had consisted of, ‘toga party?’, ‘zombies?’, ‘both?’, before the matter was settled and the committee moved on to the next item on the agenda.

After dessert (a meringue decorated with chocolate writing icing to look like a ghost), and various failed attempts to flirt with Aziraphale, the poshest meal Crowley had ever eaten came to an end, and the conversation quickly turned to what to do next. Between the five of them at the table, they had only gone through two bottles of wine, and Crowley was ready to take their alcohol consumption to the next level.

“Let’s go to Brimstone!” Crowley suggested.

“Always full of townies,” one of the girls protested. Crowley really should try to remember which girl was which, but their names began with the same letter and had the same number of syllables in for fuck’s sake, so it wasn’t really his fault for getting confused.

“Not on a Tuesday!” Crowley objected.

“I’m not going to Brimstone wearing this dress, it’ll get ruined!”

“She’s got a point, Crowley,” Eric interjected. “We’ve made an effort to look proper smart for once, maybe we should go somewhere... _fancy_.” Eric wiggled his eyebrows and the giggling girl giggled some more. Crowley’s eyes immediately flicked to Aziraphale. Yes, this was a good idea. Crowley had only spent two hours in Aziraphale’s company and yet could have said with absolute certainty that _Aziraphale_ would decline an invitation to come to Brimstone. He’d probably prefer to hide himself away in his room with a good book or something, which was probably why Crowley had never actually seen him until today. But perhaps somewhere a bit classier, a bit more upmarket... Crowley couldn’t really afford it, but it would be worth it.

“Any suggestions, Aziraphale?” Crowley drawled.

“I’m afraid not. I’m not really one for going out.”

“There’s that posh bar by Euston Square, Wings of Night,” Kelly/Katie suggested.

“Oh yeah, I know it, not far from the British Library,” Crowley ventured, not needing to mentally kick himself for sounding so desperate to say something Aziraphale could relate to, as Eric did the honours and physically kicked him under the table. Crowley kicked him back, hard.

“Shit! You bastard!” Eric lifted his leg up into his lap and rubbed his shin.

“Can I tempt you to join us, Aziraphale?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never actually been to a bar before.”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me? I’ve _never_ met a student who hasn’t been to a bar.”

“Did you, perhaps, meet these other students _in_ bars?” Aziraphale retorted.

“Fuck off. Come on, it’ll be fun. You’re all dressed up... and now you have somewhere to go,” Crowley winked. Eric rested his elbow on the table and leaned his forehead against the heel of his hand. Aziraphale studied Crowley for a moment, seeming to think it through. Crowley pushed out his bottom lip and tilted his head, attempting to give Aziraphale puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t think so, but I do hope you’ll have a good time.”

“Aziraphale, _please_? It’s my _birthday_.”

“Is it really?”

“Yes, really, and I want to celebrate! It’s not every day you turn nineteen.”

“No, it’s precisely _one_ day, in fact,” Aziraphale said, and he actually sounded serious. “Happy birthday, Crowley.”

“Thanks. You’ll come then?”

“Very well, but I mustn’t stay out late. I have a lecture at nine o’clock.”

“Oh come on, you could miss _one_? I’ve _never_ been to a nine a.m.”

“You’re not serious? You regularly miss lectures?” Aziraphale asked incredulously.

“If they’re at _nine a.m._ , yeah. I’m not even _awake_ at nine a.m. Anyway, let’s go,” Crowley announced, pressing his palms down on the table and standing up, determined to get going before Aziraphale could change his mind. “We won’t keep you out too late, I promise.”

Wings of Night was _fancy_ , possibly the fanciest place Crowley had been except the hotel where his cousin had had her wedding reception. They were the youngest people in the bar by at least five years, and Crowley felt a little bit conspicuous, despite their formal attire. It felt like they were just dressing up, playing at being grown-up enough to be somewhere like this. The low-level illumination added to the sophisticated atmosphere of the place, and the girls seemed to be in their element, striding confidently up to the bar, only withdrawing their ID from their purses once prompted by the woman working there.

Fortunately it wasn’t too busy, and the five of them were able to get a table together in the corner, the girls setting their glasses of wine in front of them. Crowley knew from experience that wine wasn’t their normal drink of choice, but then he suspected Wings of Night didn’t serve strawberry daiquiri-flavoured jelly shots, and if they were all going to play at being as posh as Eric and Aziraphale for the night, then why not go all in? Budget be damned, it was early in the semester, there would be time to make adjustments later.

“Can I get you a drink, Aziraphale?”

“Oh... thank you. Do you think they serve tea?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“I do enjoy a nice cup of tea after a lovely meal.”

“I... I’ll ask. Eric?”

“I’ll come with you, look at the menu.”

Crowley and Eric approached the bar, both retrieving their ID from their wallets without needing to be asked, they didn’t have the same unfounded confidence as the girls.

“Do you do tea?” Crowley asked, and the woman behind the bar looked at him quizzically.

“You don’t need ID if you’re ordering _tea_ , love.”

“ _I’m_ ordering a martini,” Crowley clarified, resisting the urge to say, ‘shaken not stirred’, after all, ordering a fucking _tea_ was embarrassing enough. He slipped his ID back into his wallet. “My friend over there would like a cup of tea, please.”

“No problem.”

Crowley turned to Eric, who shook his head. “I’ll get mine, thanks mate.”

Crowley paid for the drinks, wondering how tea could be so expensive when it was just a tea bag and hot water, since his mum could get a box of 240 bags for 99p at their local shop (which he only knew because the box had a massive ‘99p’ printed across the top corner). He stood, leaning awkwardly on the bar while the woman bent down to retrieve an actual tea pot from underneath it, taking it with her to a machine in the corner.

At least now he and Eric were alone, and Crowley seized the opportunity to ask the question that had been burning away in his mind for the past three hours.

“He _is_ gay, right?”

Eric laughed and shook his head. “How did I know you were going to ask me that? Honestly, I don’t know. First day we met I thought, ‘that guy’s as gay as a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide’, but I can’t be a hundred percent. I’ve never seen him with anyone, and he hasn’t mentioned a partner, and he never talks about that sort of thing.”

“He’s not in HornSoc.”

“Well I wouldn’t read into that, I’m not sure he’s ‘one for societies’”, Eric joked, mimicking Aziraphale’s way of speaking, but not unkindly.

“Oh I don’t know, I bet he’d be all over the Shakespeare Society,” Crowley laughed. “I’m gonna go for it.”

“Crowley...”

“What? You know I enjoy a challenge.”

“Is he really your type?”

“Are you actually asking if _hot and adorable_ is my type? I like him. He’s interesting, and he’s wearing a bowtie for fuck’s sake.”

“He doesn’t always dress like that,” Eric laughed.

“He could wear a bin bag and he’d still be hot. Oh my God, there’s no chance I can get him to come to Dead In Rome, is there? Imagine him in a toga, _fuuuuuuck_ I think I’d explode.”

“Crowley, your horny’s showing,” Eric teased as he waggled his finger. “What happened with that girl you pulled at Brimstone on Wednesday night?”

“We shagged, she kicked me out after. The usual.”

“Don’t you _dare_ think about doing that with Aziraphale! He’s my friend, we’re practically roommates.”

“I _am_ capable of having a serious relationship, Eric.”

“Have you ever _had_ a serious relationship?”

“First time for everything.”

“Crowley, I’m serious! He’s a real sweetheart. You remember the Eden Court booze cruise? He spent most of the afternoon on his own, it was open bar and I know he was wasted, but he just sat watching ducks and talking about wishing he had something to feed them.”

“Ok, well, ducks are awesome and I don’t know what your point was but now I want him even more.”

Crowley had attended a booze cruise himself a couple of weeks ago. He remembered throwing up into the river while Eric held his hair back, performing a little impromptu pole dancing and then ending up tied to the pole with a length of red rope, not completely sure how it had happened, although he suspected Eric had acquired the rope to try to keep him from diving off the edge of the boat.

“Please behave yourself.”

The woman behind the bar returned, placing a pot of tea, a small jug of milk, a ceramic container full of brown and white sugar cubes, a cup, saucer and chocolate wafer onto a circular black tray. She then made Crowley’s martini, and he smiled and mumbled his thanks before carrying the tray back over to the table and leaving Eric to order his drink.

“Here you are, sir,” Crowley announced, setting the tray down and then taking a seat opposite Aziraphale.

“Oh, this looks delightful! How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, my treat.”

“Oh, thank you, Crowley! But it’s your birthday, so you really _must_ at least let me return the favour later.” So Aziraphale was planning to stay for more than one drink. Excellent. The corners of Crowley’s lips quirked up into a smile.

“Thanks.”

Crowley watched as Aziraphale took the lid off the teapot and stirred the liquid inside before fitting it back into place and pouring it into his cup.

“I thought you’d be a milk first kind of person.”

“Well now, there’s no need for that!” Crowley raised his eyebrows, then realised that Aziraphale was joking. “Did you know, people used to put the milk in first only out of necessity, back when the china could crack if boiling water was added to it?”

“I did _not_ know that,” Crowley smirked, tilting his head and watching Aziraphale delicately add a little milk from the jug before stirring his tea. He then dipped the chocolate wafer into the liquid for a second before raising it to his lips and humming with satisfaction as he bit into it, and thus the tea became worth every penny Crowley had paid for it.

Eric returned to the table and sat beside Crowley, and the two of them shared a meaningful glance. Crowley disregarded the meaning behind Eric’s glance, however, fixing his gaze on Aziraphale.

“So, Aziraphale, have you heard about the Dead In Rome party?”

Eric blew out a breath and raised his glass of beer to his lips.

“I can’t say I have.”

“The HornSoc Halloween social.”

“HornSoc?” Aziraphale questioned, and Eric set down his drink.

“That’s what Crowley calls the LGBTQ society. He’s the first year rep on the committee.”

“Oh, good Lord. May I ask why you’ve taken it upon yourself to refer to the society in that way?”

“You needn’t look so...” Crowley waved his hand around in front of Aziraphale, unable to retrieve an appropriate adjective from his brain. “It’s not what you think. Our mascot is a unicorn. We've got this big fluffy unicorn costume for the parade, you know the parade? Anyway, it’s got this huge rainbow mane, I wanted to wear it but they said I was too tall.”

“Crowley...” Eric encouraged.

“Right, my _point_ is, it’s a unicorn, it has a horn, HornSoc.”

“I see.”

“So, fancy wrapping yourself up in a sheet and covering yourself in fake blood?”

“I’m not a member of the LGBTQ society, Crowley.”

“You mean like HornSoc or the _wider_ LGBTQ ‘society’?” Crowley tried.

“That’s a rather personal question.”

“No it isn’t!” Crowley protested, although Eric’s warning expression made him wonder, for a second, if he’d been a little bit too forward. Aziraphale took a delicate sip of his tea, watching Crowley over the rim of the cup. “Look, doesn’t matter if you’re not in HornSoc, you can go as my plus one.”

“That doesn’t really sound like something I would enjoy, but thank you for the invitation, Crowley.”


	2. 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a night out for Crowley's 20th birthday, Crowley tries to get Aziraphale to confide in him.

**21 st October 2004**

“ _Holy shit_ , Aziraphale!”

“Happy birthday, Crowley.”

Crowley stared down at the birthday card in his lap. It had ‘20’ on the front of it (the 2 shaped like a duck), and inside was a pair of tickets to the Maroon 5 concert at Brixton Academy on 6th November. These tickets were fucking _expensive_ , and Crowley _knew_ this, because he’d already looked it up online months ago and instantly ruled it out as an option, no matter how much he might have wanted to go. And yet Aziraphale had bought them for him... Crowley was completely and utterly speechless.

Crowley might have felt differently about this if he was still living under the illusion that Aziraphale was a rich posh bastard, rather than just a _regular_ posh bastard. Crowley had learned last year, however, that the only reason Aziraphale had been living in one of the swanky rooms in Eden Court was because he’d spent all of year 13 working part-time at Waterstones to earn enough money to afford it, because he’d been anxious about sharing a bathroom with people he didn’t know.

“Aziraphale, I don’t know what to say. I mean, _thank you_ , obviously.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.”

Crowley smiled at him, but deflated a little internally as he realised Aziraphale did not intend to be using the second ticket himself. He must have bought these tickets months ago though, maybe back when Crowley had been seeing Howard. Perhaps Aziraphale had actually had faith that the relationship would last more than the two months it actually managed. Crowley, on the other hand, hadn’t been surprised when Howard had dumped him with the words, ‘I know you’re in love with that posh mate of yours’, to which Crowley had simply replied, ‘which posh mate? I have two’, and had been promptly told to fuck off.

“Two weeks to find someone to go with or _I’m_ going with you,” Hastur smirked, snatching one of the tickets from Crowley’s lap.

“Maybe Aziraphale wants to go with me?” Crowley sneered back, turning to Aziraphale who had settled himself at the dining table, returning to the work he’d been doing earlier, unzipping his tartan pencil case and extracting a bright yellow highlighter.

“I didn’t buy the ticket for _myself_ , Crowley.”

“I know, you bought it for _me_ , and I’m asking if you’d like to go with me.” Aziraphale set down his highlighter and seemed to think about this for a moment.

“All right, if you don’t have anyone else you’d rather take by then, I’ll go with you. Thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he snatched the ticket back from Hastur, dipping his head to conceal the blush he could feel spreading across his cheeks. He shoved all of the presents he’d just unwrapped into the gift bag from his mum and got up from the sofa to safely deposit them in his bedroom. He lingered there for a moment before going back to his housemates. He was actually going to go to a concert with _Aziraphale_ , just the two of them. Technically it wasn’t a _date_ , but Crowley didn’t care, he still knew he’d spend the next two weeks being excited about it and hardly thinking of anything else. In the privacy of his bedroom he allowed the grin he had been fighting to spread across his face, withdrawing the birthday card Aziraphale had got him from the gift bag and experiencing a rush just from looking at his name written in Aziraphale’s handwriting. He set the card on his bedside table (the cards from his other friends and family could wait until later, maybe even tomorrow), and headed back to the living room to rejoin the others.

“Right, so tonight, we find Crowley someone to shag!” Ligur announced, clapping his hands on Crowley’s shoulders as soon as he walked back in.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Come on, Crowley, it’s your birthday! You used to be the horniest of everyone in HornSoc and now look at you, it’s been _months_ ,” Hastur teased. “You’re letting us down.”

Crowley scowled at him and wondered whether he’d ever be able to shake off the reputation he’d acquired in first year.

“Doesn’t the fact that it’s been months make him _more_ horny?” Ligur countered.

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here? And can we not talk about this _right now_?” Crowley urged, tilting his head in what he hoped was a discreet manner in the direction of Aziraphale, who was now engaged in what seemed to be some pretty serious highlighting.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Aziraphale interjected lightly without even glancing up from the paper he was reading, so apparently he _had_ noticed Crowley’s little nod in his direction. Fuck, his peripheral vision must be like a... whatever animal has good peripheral vision; Crowley wasn’t studying _Zoology_ for fuck’s sake. “Just because I don’t travel much myself that doesn’t mean I have a problem with hearing about other people’s holidays,” he joked.

Hastur and Ligur laughed, and Crowley fought back a grimace, wary of Aziraphale seeing his reaction.

“And there are none more well-travelled than Crowley,” Ligur announced in a booming voice. “He has seen all the kingdoms of the world!”

“And partaken in all of the...”

“All right, all right, fuck off you arseholes, it _is_ my _birthday_ ,” Crowley grumbled, glancing up again at Aziraphale, whose lips had quirked into a small, amused smile. He had now abandoned his highlighter and was furiously scribbling notes on a pad of A4 lined paper.

The five of them, Eric, Aziraphale and Crowley, along with Hastur and Ligur, who had lived on the same corridor as Crowley in Genesis Hall, had been living together in this dump of a house for four weeks now. In all that time, Aziraphale had never seemed to stop working. Crowley worked hard too; it’s just that his work was condensed into panicked overnighters immediately before the deadline. It was how he got his exercise, sprinting to the Life Sciences building with his essay in hand, frantically filling in a cover sheet and getting it under the timestamp machine with seconds to spare. He felt like James Bond disarming a bomb as the clock ticked down to 00:01, especially when he had to fight someone off to get to it. “I’m twenty now. I am no longer interested in meaningless sex,” Crowley announced, raising his palms up in front of him.

“Right, ok, if you say so. We’ll see how long that lasts. You’re still getting us free tickets to the Horny Devils party though, right?” Ligur checked.

“You can rest assured that no matter what, I will _always_ get you free tickets to the HornSoc Halloween social.”

“Good, not much point being friends with someone on the committee otherwise.”

“How much you value our friendship touches me deeply.”

“Speaking of something touching you deeply...”

“Stop it! Fuck off!” Crowley punched Ligur in the arm, and Aziraphale chuckled quietly, still writing, apparently not distracted by all the stupid nonsense going on around him. “I am not planning to shag anybody tonight, so drop it. I just want to go out and have fun with my friends on my birthday without them taking the piss out of me every five minutes, is that too much to ask?”

“Might be,” Eric joined the conversation, shooting Crowley an amused smile. Crowley scowled at the three of them.

“Right, well, _thanks_. I’m gonna get ready, meet back here in an hour?” Crowley downed the rest of his mug full of the cheap wine they’d been using to start the process of getting drunk on a budget and then headed back to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and rolled his eyes, glancing at himself in the mirror, his eyes drifting down to the reflection of the birthday card on his bedside table. He once again thought of Aziraphale, after all, he was almost _always_ thinking of Aziraphale, and suddenly realised that Aziraphale had said, ‘I don’t travel _much_ ’, not ‘I don’t travel _at all_ ’, and his mind lingered on that for a while as he set to work curling his hair.

Crowley shoved his ID back in his wallet (seriously, how old would he need to be before someone couldn’t question that he was older than _seventeen_?), took his change from the man behind the bar and picked up his bottle of WKD blue. He looked over to the booth in the corner, where Aziraphale was gazing fondly at the enormous slice of chocolate fudge cake the waitress had just brought for him. They’d been here at The Four Horsemen (aptly named, as the drinks were so cheap it was the perfect place to start a night out that was intended to get apocalyptic) for a couple of hours already, and Crowley was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. About fifteen minutes ago, Aziraphale had announced he was feeling ‘peckish’, and so had ordered the cake. Adorable.

Aziraphale looked incredible tonight. He’d put on a smart light blue shirt and actually left the top two buttons undone, which was still hot even if he _was_ wearing an actual fucking undershirt beneath it. Crowley smiled as he discreetly watched Aziraphale take the first bite of his cake, which he followed with a sip of his tea. This place did unlimited refills on hot drinks, and the look on Aziraphale’s face when he’d first discovered that, it was like he’d won the fucking lottery or something. Beholding that look on Aziraphale’s face also made _Crowley_ feel like he’d won the lottery, that is if he'd then realised he’d put his jeans in the washing machine with the ticket still in the pocket.

He’d got to know Aziraphale well over the last year, and they’d spent a lot more time together over the past four weeks since they’d actually become roommates. Crowley had wondered if maybe actually living together, with all the tension and revelations that could bring, might actually help him to get over the intense crush he’d had on Aziraphale for the past twelve months. It hadn’t. Howard had been right, Crowley was pretty sure he was in love with him. He’d never felt this way about anyone.

Crowley headed back over to the booth with his drink and slid in to sit beside Aziraphale, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Thanks for coming out tonight. I know you prefer to stay in most of the time.”

“It’s your _birthday_ , Crowley. Although you won’t persuade me to come with you to Brimstone after this, I’m afraid. I really don’t see the point of spending time with people in a place that’s so loud you can’t even have a conversation.”

“Cheap drinks, and dancing.”

“To each their own, I suppose. You don’t seem to be shy about dancing in the house, mind you.”

“S’not the same. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for my present. I know, I said it, but I wanted to say it again. Really, you shouldn’t have spent that much on me. I’m so grateful though! It’s going to be awesome, I’m so glad you’re coming with me.”

“I’ve never been to that sort of concert before.”

“What other sort of concert is there? Oh no, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know, it’s going to be classical music or something, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but not by choice. It was a GCSE Music trip, The Planets by Holst. I wouldn’t mind doing something like that again though; it was actually rather lovely.”

“If you say so,” Crowley shrugged, looking up to check that Eric, Hastur and Ligur were still queuing at the bar. It looked like they would be there for a while, so Crowley decided to seize his opportunity to ask Aziraphale about the topic he’d be wondering about off and on since their earlier conversation in the house. “So... earlier when we were all talking, you said you don’t _travel_ much.”

“Mmm.”

“How many people _have_ you been ‘ _travelling’_ with?”

Aziraphale laughed and broke off a piece of chocolate fudge cake with his fork, delicately placing it on his tongue and giving a little hum of satisfaction, a sound that Crowley had come to love, even if it was just sweet, delicious torture.

“Scrumptious!”

“Come on, Aziraphale, please tell me!”

“Crowley, not everyone feels as comfortable as you do speaking so openly about sex.”

“Sorry, I know. Sorry. I’m pretty drunk.”

“That’s all right, I’m well aware that it’s your favourite topic.”

“That’s not fair! Well, ok, yeah, maybe. _One_ of my favourite topics.”

“Well, when the others come back over here I’m sure they would be delighted to discuss their sex lives with you, if there are indeed any topics the four of you have yet to delve into in tremendous detail already, that is.”

“Yeah. Right. It’s just...” Crowley leaned on the table and looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, deciding to voice something that had been playing on his mind for much longer than just today, “you’re not in HornSoc.”

“We’ve been over this, Crowley, I’m not joining... _the society_. I’m not interested.”

“No, I know, I know, I know, you’ve said! I didn’t mean that. It’s just... makes me wonder if you have people you can talk to about this stuff, if you wanted to, I mean. I’m just saying, if you _want_ to talk about stuff, you can talk to me, you know? If you _haven’t_ got people you can talk to about that stuff. I mean, you probably have. I’m just being drunk and weird, sorry.”

“I appreciate the offer, Crowley, but there really is no need. For the record, and please do keep this to yourself,” Aziraphale began, lowering his voice and glancing up towards the bar, “I have only ever... _travelled_ on my own. Not often, and nowhere exotic, I can tell you.”

“Oh. Ok. Would you _like_ to go travelling with someone?”

“My goodness, you’re _incorrigible_.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you know what incorrigible means?”

“No, but I’m going for ‘fascinating and delightfully entertaining’,” Crowley teased.

“If that makes you happy, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled, taking another bite of his cake (seriously, who goes out to the pub with their friends and orders a fucking _cake_?). “I do appreciate the offer, sincerely, Crowley. It’s just not something I’m very comfortable talking about. When I was younger I was always given the impression that it was something that just... wasn’t discussed.”

“Then you came to uni and met us lot and we taught you that it’s possible to talk about sex every fucking day?”

“Indeed.”

“So _would_ you? Like, when you’re... _travelling_ on your own, do you think about what it would be like if you had a ‘ _travel companion_ ’?”

“Yes, Crowley. It’s always useful to have someone to carry your luggage, stow it safely away for you in the overhead compartment and perhaps hold your hand during any unexpected turbulence.”

“Aziraphale, I’m too drunk for your literature analogy things! I don’t know what any of that means!”

“What a pity. Perhaps we’d better drop the matter then, hmm?”

“Yeah, ok, ok. Oh, hey, they’re going to announce the new president soon!”

“I wasn’t aware you followed _British_ politics, let alone what’s happening in the US. Do you think Bush will secure another term?”

“What? No, not that! _HornSoc_! We get a new president every year. I’m going to stand for it next year, I think.”

“I’m sure you’d make a wonderful president for the society, Crowley.”

“‘ _The society_ ’,” Crowley mocked playfully. “I dare you to say _HornSoc_.”

“No.”

“ _Say it_...” Crowley pressed his fingers and thumb to Aziraphale’s lips, opening and closing them and saying ‘HornSoc’ in a poor imitation of Aziraphale’s voice. There was a _slight_ possibility that Crowley was even more drunk than he thought he was. That wine from the cornershop was always a killer.

“My dear, I do think you might be rather drunk. You will take care tonight, won’t you? Don’t go falling into the Thames and drowning yourself on your way home. Whoever shall be HornSoc president next year if you do something like that?”

“Ahhhh you said it! _You said it_!" Crowley raised his fists in the air in triumph. "I love you so much!” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, squeezing him tightly against him. They had hugged several times by now, and Aziraphale always felt amazing, so soft and warm like he had been designed for giving perfect hugs. He always smelt fucking incredible too. Aziraphale wrapped one arm loosely around Crowley in return, the other still holding his fork, poised over his chocolate cake.

“I love you too, my dear,” Aziraphale chuckled when Crowley finally released him. “I do think perhaps you should slow down on the drinking for a while, though. Have you even eaten anything? Would you like some cake?”

“Yeah, good idea. Thanks.”

Aziraphale set down his fork and pushed his plate towards Crowley, who, with thoughts of indirect kissing, used the fork to break off a big chunk of cake and shovel it into his mouth.

“Mmm... s’good,” he mumbled around his mouthful of cake, and Aziraphale smiled at him fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale ordering tea in a posh bar while his friends get drunk after a formal dinner in 2003 = me  
> Aziraphale ordering tea and a chocolate fudge cake in a pub on a night out in 2004 = also me
> 
> I'd forgotten about those timestamp machines we had to use when we submitted assignments before everything started being done online, this fic is bringing back memories... the next chapter will feature a bit of MSN Messenger. ;-)


	3. 2005 (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley goes out for his 21st birthday, but all he really wants is to be back home looking after Aziraphale.

**21 st October 2005**

“Come on, it’s Crowley’s _birthday_!” Ligur whined, grabbing Aziraphale’s arm and trying to pull him up from the sofa. “And it’s the last time we’ll all be together for it!”

“Leave him alone, Ligur,” Crowley scowled. Eric, Hastur and Ligur had started pre-drinking at 3pm, and Crowley hadn’t joined them. He’d never actually realised how annoying drunk people could be when you’re sober, presumably because he had never actually _been_ the one sober before. Today, however, his attention had been directed elsewhere, and he’d had no interest in getting drunk, even if it was his birthday. “Sure you don’t want me to stay, Aziraphale?”

“No, of course not. I’m fine. It’s your _twenty-first birthday_ , Crowley! Please go. Enjoy yourself.”

“Let’s at least get a photo of us all together for Facebook before we go,” Ligur suggested, rushing off to his bedroom to find his digital camera. He came back, set it on a timer and rested it on the edge of the table, and the gang all huddled around Aziraphale on the sofa. “You really need to get Facebook so we can tag you in stuff,” Ligur added once the camera flashed and produced its artificial shutter sound.

“I don’t need Facebook to keep in touch with you, I have all of your telephone numbers and email addresses,” Aziraphale protested.

“And MSN, I got him on MSN,” Crowley announced proudly.

“Oh, hey! Welcome to the twenty-first century!” Eric joked, ruffling Aziraphale’s hair.

“Quite. Thank you.” Aziraphale reached up to smooth down his hair and looked at Crowley, whose heart was aching to see the sadness in Aziraphale’s eyes.

“I can stay,” Crowley tried again, his voice barely more than a whisper. Aziraphale sniffed and shook his head. Crowley recoiled as his other three housemates started chanting his name, grabbing hold of him by the shoulders and shaking him. He’d never felt quite like this, an aching that throbbed throughout this chest and his limbs, a desperate urge to reach out to Aziraphale and wrap his arms around him, to protect him and to care for him. Maybe Crowley did need to get drunk. He certainly needed to do _something_ , because this was fucking torture.

Eric, Hastur and Ligur dragged Crowley out of the house, whooping and cheering and announcing to the world that they were going to get ‘completely and utterly shit-faced’. Crowley winced and looked around at the houses surrounding them, aware that not all of them were occupied by students. For the first time ever, Crowley thought of their neighbours, and pictured young children trying to get to sleep. He pressed his finger to his lips and shushed his friends, and they quietened down a bit, laughing with each other, Ligur stumbling into a puddle and Hastur nearly falling into the road. Crowley walked along in silence, distracted by his thoughts. He had been twenty-one for less than a day, and it felt like a switch had been flicked that had turned him instantly into a responsible adult.

_You’re not acting like this because you’re an **adult**. It’s because you’re completely, hopelessly in love with your best friend and he’s in pain you fucking idiot._

They went to Brimstone, because it had always been Crowley’s favourite club. He had even acquired something of a reputation there back in first year, which he had never seemed to leave him. Eric paid for him to get in, and Crowley tensed as the bouncer patted him down and searched his pockets. If there was going to be any chance of him relaxing and actually enjoying himself tonight then he really did need to get drunk, and _fast._ The truth was, though, that he didn’t really want to. What if Aziraphale called and asked him to come home?

_What if he needs me?_

Brimstone was loud. So fucking loud. Crowley wiped Hastur’s spit from his cheek from where his friend had tried to shout into his ear about getting another drink. The club was packed, and Crowley was feeling uncomfortably hot and sweaty. His shoes were sticking to the floor, and he’d already had one drink nearly thrown over him. The music had been pretty good, but Crowley couldn’t persuade any of his friends to dance, all claiming they weren’t drunk enough yet, which was hard to believe.

It was Crowley’s _birthday_ , this was exactly where he should be: out clubbing, getting drunk and having fun with his friends, but he admitted to himself, he really didn’t want to be here. He loved his friends, but they weren’t the people Crowley wanted to be with right now. Suddenly the name of the club felt particularly apt. It was dark and hot, crowded and dingy, and being here with Eric, Hastur and Ligur was actually starting to feel like being in hell.

Honestly, right now Crowley couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to curl up under a blanket next to Aziraphale on their sofa, drinking hot cocoa and trying to make him feel better about that fucking knobhead Kevin... Crowley could feel himself seething. Who dumped someone in a _text message_ for fuck’s sake?

What time even was it? Crowley lifted his wrist and looked at the fancy watch his parents had bought him for his birthday. It was only 11.15pm, but Crowley had had enough of this. It was _his_ birthday and he’d fucking well drink cocoa if he wanted. A bad remix of the new Madonna song came on and Crowley decided it was time to start doing what he actually _wanted_ to do, not what he thought he _should_ be doing. He shouted in Eric’s ear that he was leaving.

“You sure?” Eric shouted back over the music.

_‘Those who run seem to have all the fun, I'm caught up, I don't know what to do’_

“Yeah. I can’t get into it. Have fun though!”

“We will! Look after yourself! Seriously, Crowley, don’t torture yourself!” Eric yelled in his ear.

“I fucking _love_ him, Eric, it’s gonna be torture whatever what I do!”

_‘Every little thing that you say or do, I'm hung up, I'm hung up on you’_

“I’ll keep the guys out!” Eric nodded his head towards Hastur and Ligur. “Give you some peace and quiet!”

“Thanks, mate! See you tomorrow!”

Crowley shoved his way through the crowds back to the door, stepping out into the cool night air with the music spilling out into the street.

_‘I’m hung up on you, don’t know what to do, don’t know what to do, don’t know what to do.’_

Crowley’s ears were still ringing when he turned the key and stepped into their house, confronted immediately with the smell of cheap paint that never seemed to fade. He could see the light was still on in the living room, and pushed open the stupidly heavy door as unobtrusively as possible.

“Hey, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley... What are you doing back so early? It’s not even midnight! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t into it. I’m twenty-one now, a proper adult, apparently I can’t handle clubbing anymore,” he huffed out a breath as he collapsed down onto the sofa beside Aziraphale. “It’s all downhill from here, right?”

Crowley wriggled out of his jacket and chucked it across the room, where it miraculously landed over the armrest of the second sofa.

“The opposite, I’m sure. There’s a reason people give keys for your twenty-first,” Aziraphale murmured softly, nodding towards Crowley’s cards which were scattered across the flea-ridden rug in front of the bricked-up fireplace. Although this place had fleas and constantly smelt like paint even though it evidently hadn’t been painted for years, at least it was better than the house they’d shared last year, where the shower had caught fire while Crowley was in it, and water poured in through a leaky window in his bedroom in the middle of the night, startling him awake thinking there was a ghost in the room, although he’d never admitted that to his housemates.

“Is there? I did think that was kinda weird that so many of the cards had keys on them.”

“Isn’t it symbolic of receiving the keys to the world or something like that?”

“I don’t know. I’d look it up online but my laptop’s in my bedroom and I can’t be arsed moving. You been sat here all night?”

“Yes, I suppose I have.”

“Been reading?”

“I tried, I couldn’t concentrate. I’ve just been thinking.”

“The offer still stands from earlier, you know. We’re all prepared to hunt him down and kick his arse.”

Aziraphale managed a small, sad smile. “That really won’t do any good, Crowley.”

“Is he on Facebook? What’s his surname?”

“Crowley, _please_ , Kevin is...” Aziraphale’s voice wavered as he said his ex’s name, and he swallowed and tried again. “Kevin is well within his rights to not want to be with me.”

“That’s what I don’t get. How the fuck could he not want to be with you? Is _perfect_ not his type? Fucking wanker.”

“Crowley, I’m hardly perfect, as well you know.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened? It’s just you and me here now. I know you’re a private person, Aziraphale, but it’s not good to keep everything in,” Crowley tried.

“Nothing really _happened_ , Crowley. As you know we were only together for four weeks. A grand total of three dates.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Good Lord, Crowley, you’re _obsessed_.”

“Ob _sex_ ed,” Crowley suggested proudly, then squeezed his eyes closed and grimaced. “Sorry, Aziraphale. I’m so sorry. I have no filter. At least you know I’ll always be honest with you, eh?”

“I do know that, Crowley, yes. Thank you. And no, I didn’t sleep with him,” Aziraphale said quietly, and Crowley felt the burning in his chest weaken slightly as one ingredient was extracted from the roiling cauldron of love, rage and jealousy bubbling away inside him. “I’ve still not actually slept with anyone.”

“Because you haven’t wanted to?”

“I don’t know _what_ I want, Crowley. I’ve never really figured it out. I thought when I came to university everyone would be in the same position, but it’s never felt like that. Everyone else has always seemed so sure of themselves, like they know exactly what they want. I thought maybe I could figure some of it out with Kevin, but...”

“But what?”

“He was... impatient. I frustrated him, I think. I didn’t go fast enough for him. I’m not upset about _him_ , Crowley, I assure you, as I said, we only went on three dates. This isn’t about Kevin, it’s about what he represents, I suppose. I don’t want to be alone forever, but how can I find someone compatible with me if I don’t even know what I want myself when it comes to...” Aziraphale trailed off.

“Travelling?” Crowley joked.

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten. I rather liked that metaphor.”

“Well, if it helps, you know you can always talk to _me_ about... _travel destinations_ , right?”

“Yes, Crowley, I certainly do know that,” Aziraphale laughed. He actually _laughed_ , and Crowley’s chest swelled with pride.

“Hey, I made you smile.”

“That’s hardly a rare occurrence,” Aziraphale said fondly, and Crowley’s heart did back flips.

“You’ve told me before you like thinking about stuff. Like... fantasising, right? Hasn’t that helped you to figure out some of what you like?”

“Thinking about something is very different from actually doing it.”

“I know. Look, Kevin’s just an arsehole. If someone cares about you they won’t pressure you to go fast, they’ll give you all the time you need, they’ll be happy to explore different things with you and help you figure out what you like. Trust me.”

“How did you figure out what you like?”

“I don’t know really, but to be fair, I like most things.”

Aziraphale sighed and closed his eyes, hanging his head down. “Right.”

“Aziraphale, what is it?”

“It’s just... I considered that I might, one day, _go travelling_ with Kevin, and the thought of it scared me. I don’t even know what to do, and I don’t see how that’s ever going to change.”

“It’ll be different with someone you really care about. Someone you trust.”

“What if I don’t enjoy any of it? I didn’t even like it when Kevin kissed me. No one’s ever going to want to be with me, Crowley.”

“That’s not true,” Crowley protested. _I want to be with you._ “Look, you’ve... _travelled_ alone, right?”

“Of course.”

“So you enjoy that?”

“Crowley...”

“Look, you asked how I figured stuff out, well a big part of it was confiding in my friends, talking about stuff. Hearing about things from different perspectives, you know. We can stop, if you want, and I know you think I’m obsessed, and that’s fair because I totally am, but I promise I really do just want to help.”

“Well, you are an expert in this topic, I suppose.”

“Sexper—”

“Don’t you _dare_!” Aziraphale laughed again, clamping his hand over Crowley’s mouth. Crowley’s breath caught and he tried desperately to ignore what the sensation of Aziraphale’s hand over his mouth was doing to him.

“Ok, here’s my advice,” he began when Aziraphale withdrew his hand. “Start with something you know you enjoy, and then see where you go from there. Talk to your partner, be honest with them, ask them about what they enjoy. Like... ok, you said you enjoy _thinking_ about _travel destinations_ , so you could start with that.”

“That isn’t something one can do with a partner, Crowley.”

“Of course it is! You know... you just... talk about stuff. Dirty talk.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that! I’d be too embarrassed.”

“You could do it online then, over MSN or something. It’d be like... reading and writing erotic literature. To be honest you could do your whole fucking English Lit dissertation on my MSN chat logs.”

“How unfortunate that my supervisor has already approved my chosen topic.”

“That’s disappointing. Never mind, maybe you could do an MA or something,” Crowley joked. Aziraphale’s brow furrowed with concentration.

“You know, that’s actually a very good idea.”

“Doing a masters dissertation on my MSN chat logs?”

Aziraphale chuckled and then smiled at Crowley affectionately. “No, my dear. The other thing you suggested. I’m always more comfortable communicating in writing.”

“There you go then.”

“Could we do that now?”

“Do what?”

“Could you and I... have this conversation using MSN instead?”

“Oh... erm... yeah, sure, ok, if you want.”

Aziraphale nodded, and so they both rose from the sofa and headed for their separate bedrooms. Aziraphale shuffled along with the tartan blanket he had been snuggled up under on the sofa draped over him. When it started to slip off his shoulders, Crowley caught it and wrapped it back securely around him, and Aziraphale smiled gratefully.

Once safely hidden away in his bedroom, Crowley flopped down into his desk chair and blew out a long breath. This wasn’t how he had envisaged this evening going. What he’d actually imagined was him doting on Aziraphale, giving him hugs if he wanted them, bringing him cups of cocoa, maybe even heading out to the pizza place on the corner of the road to get him dessert. Crowley certainly hadn’t expected _this_ , but it was fine. After all, this was Crowley’s area of expertise, and he was helping a friend. He talked to _everyone_ about sex. It shouldn’t be different just because it was Aziraphale. It _wasn’t_ different, it was _fine_ , even if a gigantic scoop of jealousy had been dumped back into the bubbling cauldron in his chest. Crowley hated to think of Aziraphale with anyone else, but he hated the thought of Aziraphale being unhappy even more.

**Aziraphale says:**

Hi

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

Hey

**Aziraphale says:**

Thank you doing this, Crowley. I’m sorry if it seems silly.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

it’s not silly. what do u want to talk about?

**Aziraphale says:**

Were you scared the first time you had sex?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

i was nervous but i was pretty drunk

**Aziraphale says:**

Drunk? How old were you?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

16\. my parents went away and left me alone in the house for the weekend what did they think was gonna happen? actually think my mum did it on purpose, i’d been seeing this girl for a couple of months by then and she walked in on us snogging a few times

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

I’m not going to ask how you were able to obtain alcohol when you were 16.

Seeing the change in Aziraphale’s display name, Crowley heart swelled and he fell back against the backrest of his desk chair, bringing his hands up to his eyes. _I’m so fucking in love with him._

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

It sounds like your family speaks more openly about these matters than mine. Did you have a good time?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

don’t remember all of it but it wasn’t great, she was a virgin too and we didn’t know what we were doing

Although it was an honest assessment of an experience that Crowley remembered involving the words ‘Are you _sure_ that’s it?’, he realised that it probably wasn’t the best way to put Aziraphale’s mind at rest.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

but we were only 16. didn’t have my own computer then so i couldn’t even watch porn (for educational purposes of course)

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

Watching pornography has never appealed to me. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

fuckin hell no of course not just because you live with a load of sex-crazed idiots like me we’re not representative of the population

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

I know you all think I’m terribly self-sufficient and independent, and I do enjoy my own company, but I do also feel quite lonely. I hope one day someone will want to be with me.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

do u even want to have sex? u know u don’t have to right? some people don’t want to at all. i kno ppl in hornsoc if u want to talk to them?

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

I definitely want to try. I enjoy thinking about it. I think I would enjoy the intimacy of it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be very adventurous.

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

Would you ever consider going out with someone like me?

Crowley stopped breathing for a second and reflexively typed ‘someone *like* u or actually u? ;-)’, his undying flirting instincts kicking in, but he quickly deleted it. Aziraphale didn’t need Crowley’s stupid flirtatious comments, he needed reassurance.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

yes of course. look i kno i got a reputation in 1st yr but i haven’t been with any1 for a really long time now and if i was gonna be in a relationship it would b with some1 i really cared about and sex would just be 1 small part of it

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo??) says:**

u deserve some1 who accepts u and loves everything about u and u shouldn’t settle 4 less and theres no way u’ll b alone cos ur fucking perfect

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

That’s very kind of you. I would like to believe that but I do wonder if it’s rather idealistic to think that way?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

definitely not, there’s like 3 billion guys out there - can’t all be arseholes

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

Do you ever look at someone and immediately think you’d like to sleep with them?

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

not much recently but in general yeah

**Aziraphale (Wahoo!) says:**

I’ve never felt like that. The only time I’ve been attracted to someone like that is with someone I really care about, after I got to know them really well.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

knobface kevin u mean?

**Aziraphale (Wahoo! You’re welcome - you deserve it! :-)) says:**

No, I never felt that way about him.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

i didn’t kno u’d been with some1 else was this @ school?

**Aziraphale (Wahoo! You’re welcome - you deserve it! :-)) says:**

No, you’re right, I’ve never been with anyone else. Actually this is something I’m experiencing at the moment. I have feelings for someone, and I’m attracted to him in a way I’ve never been attracted to anyone before.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

u’ve been hiding a secret crush omg how can u not have told me??? and y were u with that wanker kevin then?

Of everything Crowley was feeling, first and foremost was intense relief that they were having this conversation online instead of in person. There’s no way Crowley would have been able to hide the devastation written all over his face. He knew Aziraphale had other friends, obviously, but Crowley had never met any of them. They were people from his English Lit course, and Aziraphale would go round to their houses or out for tea with them, probably discussing books or whatever, but he never brought any of them back to the house. Maybe this was why. Maybe he thought his housemates would pick up on his feelings for this guy and tease him. Aziraphale had always been a very private person.

**Aziraphale (Wahoo! You’re welcome - you deserve it! :-)) says:**

I wouldn’t characterise it as a crush, Crowley, and I haven’t told him how I feel. We’re good friends and I would be devastated if I did something to ruin that. I’ve always assumed there was no way he could be interested in me, but I have started to wonder if I might be wrong.

Crowley closed his eyes and let his head droop down, his fingers resting motionless on his keyboard. As much as he didn’t want to do it, Crowley had to forget that he was talking to _Aziraphale_ and just give the same advice he would to any of his friends. He just wanted Aziraphale to be happy, even if it meant enduring a fuckload of pain himself.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

i think it’s always better 2 tell someone how u feel. if u wait 2 long u might miss ur chance. pain of rejection (unlikely tho i mean look at u) is better than pain of regret

Crowley brushed a tear away from his eye. He’d spoken to his mum, his dad, and his auntie earlier, and every single one of them had said words to the effect of, ‘have a wonderful day, no one forgets their twenty-first’. Given that his dad couldn’t even remember where he’d left his glasses half the time but still remembered every detail of his own twenty-first birthday spent at the races with Crowley’s granddad, he was inclined to believe them. Crowley was going to be stuck with the memory of being hunched over his computer alone in his bedroom in a flea-ridden student house, crying over his unattainable best friend, for the rest of his life. Brilliant.

**Aziraphale (Wahoo! You’re welcome - you deserve it! :-)) says:**

Could we talk in person now please Crowley?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part 1 of 2005, don't worry, I'm not going to leave it there and jump from this to 2006! ;-)


	4. 2005 (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale comes to Crowley's bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a CHUNK, but as you'll see it wouldn't have been right to split it up...

Crowley leaned back in his chair and scratched at his scalp, tugging at his hair until it fluffed up into a chaotic, frizzy mess around his head. He twisted around so that he could see into the mirror, groaned, then dragged his fingers through the tangled chaos, wincing when he caught a knot. He took a deep breath and positioned his hands over the keyboard. Aziraphale was his _friend_ , and if he wanted to confide in Crowley about some guy he had feelings for, then Crowley needed to suck it up and be there for him. He sighed and typed a quick response.

**Crowley (HornSoc president 05/06 can i hear a wahoo?? thanks angel :-)) says:**

yes ok

Crowley leant his elbows on his desk and clenched his hands into fists, dropping his forehead down to rest on them. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath as he heard the door to Aziraphale’s bedroom open, including the resistant squeak it gave every fucking time. This house was such a shithole.

Crowley pushed down on the arms of his desk chair and stood up, preparing to rejoin Aziraphale in the living room, but stopped when he heard a gentle knock on his bedroom door. He stood in front of it for a moment, steeling himself, and then tugged it open with the necessary force required to open any door in this ridiculous house.

“Hey.”

“Hello,” Aziraphale murmured softly. He furrowed his brow and pressed his lips together, and then reached out and wrapped his arms around Crowley, pulling him into a tight hug. It wasn’t often that Aziraphale initiated their hugs, and Crowley froze for a second, caught off guard, but then squeezed Aziraphale just as tightly back. He could feel Aziraphale trembling and breathing heavily against him.

“Hey, Aziraphale, are you ok? You’re shaking.”

“I’m nervous,” Aziraphale mumbled against Crowley’s shoulder.

“Why?” Crowley asked into Aziraphale’s hair, stroking his hand soothingly up and down his back. “Aziraphale, what’s wrong?”

Aziraphale ran his hand over Crowley’s back too, his fingertips skittering right down Crowley’s spine, and Crowley scrunched his eyes closed and pulled Aziraphale tighter against him, willing himself to ignore the sensations Aziraphale’s touch elicited and to put his feelings aside and just be there for his best friend.

“I want you, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley’s heart jumped up into his throat, and his mouth opened before he even had chance to think.

“ _What_?”

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

Crowley pulled away, desperately wanting to look into Aziraphale’s eyes, but Aziraphale dipped his head and wouldn’t look at him. Crowley’s head was spinning, but he became aware that every second he spent floundering like an idiot, Aziraphale might be thinking he didn’t feel the same way, and the thought of that was unbearable. No matter how incoherent he ended up being, Crowley had to say _something_.

“No, no, no, don’t be sorry! _Fuck_! I mean... _wow_... Aziraphale... I want you too. Obviously. Of course I do. I want you more than anything.”

“Really?” Aziraphale mumbled against his neck, his voice small and hopeful.

“Are you kidding? You’re amazing! You’re _perfect_.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale back as close to him as he possibly could, pressing their cheeks together and rocking gently from side to side, just holding him, completely overwhelmed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Crowley squeezed his eyes closed and licked his lips, tasting the salt from the tears that were cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought I wouldn’t be interesting enough for you.”

“Oh my God, no! Never! You’re the most interesting person I know! Aziraphale, I’m crazy about you.”

Aziraphale squeezed him tighter, gripping hard at the fabric of his shirt. Crowley could feel soft jerking movements and could hear Aziraphale’s sniffles as he cried against him, and Crowley just continued to gently sway with him, his mind becoming completely blank, his awareness filled only with the scent of Aziraphale, the feel of his soft, warm body pressed against him and the sound of his quiet, ragged breaths as he cried.

“Thank you so much, Crowley.”

“Don’t thank me. Please don’t thank me; you have nothing to thank me for. Angel, you’re amazing.”

“You really want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course I want to be with you!”

“Even after everything we just talked about?”

“Yes, Aziraphale, of course. I want to be with you, in whatever way you want, and I’ll never go too fast for you, I promise. I just want to take care of you.”

Crowley relaxed his grip, leaning back to look at Aziraphale, who reluctantly raised his head and loosened his own hold on Crowley. There were still tears rolling down his cheeks, and Crowley’s heart clenched as he reached out and brushed them away gently with his thumbs.

“Please don’t cry, angel.”

“I’m happy. I’m just really happy.”

“I am too. I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Crowley cradled Aziraphale’s face with his hands, still sweeping his thumbs across his cheeks. Instinctively, Crowley’s gaze drifted down to Aziraphale’s lips, those gorgeous, plump lips that always looked so soft and inviting, before he realised what he was doing and flicked his gaze back up to Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Do you want to kiss me, Crowley?”

Crowley’s breath caught and he swallowed, studying Aziraphale. His arms were still wrapped loosely around Crowley’s back, his fingertips tracing small circles over the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

“What do _you_ want, angel? You said you didn’t like it when knobface kissed you.” Crowley found himself unable to say that wanker’s actual name.

“Well, I liked it a bit, at first, but then he’d...”

“Ok,” Crowley raised his palm up close to his chest. “Forget him. Would you like me to kiss you?”

“Yes, I think so. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Ok,” Crowley said softly, sliding his fingertips up and down over Aziraphale’s nape and grazing his hairline. Aziraphale closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. “Let’s just take it slow. Step-by-step. You tell me if you like something or not, ok?”

Aziraphale nodded, drawing Crowley’s attention to his mouth again when he licked his lips. Crowley kept his hand resting loosely on Aziraphale’s nape, but didn’t pull him towards him. He leaned forward slowly, pausing with his lips hovering over Aziraphale’s for a moment. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest as he closed the tiny distance still remaining between them, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to Aziraphale’s lips, holding still for a second before pulling back slightly, his lips tingling.

“Ok?”

“Yes.”

Crowley leaned in for another kiss, this time catching Aziraphale’s bottom lip between his, pressing a little harder, lingering a little longer, a tight heat flaring in his abdomen as he breathed in Aziraphale’s scent and Aziraphale started clutching at his shirt once again. Crowley pulled back, drawing in a deep breath before kissing Aziraphale over and over again, a little more insistently each time. His lips were so plump and soft, and Crowley hummed with pleasure against his mouth.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale sighed.

“Would you like to kiss _me_? I promise I won’t do anything.”

Aziraphale studied Crowley’s lips, his gaze flicking between his mouth and his eyes as he leaned in closer. The heat in Crowley’s abdomen was building and he swallowed thickly, amazed by how his body was responding already. Then again, it shouldn’t have been surprising. This was _Aziraphale_.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m good. I’m really good. Please kiss me.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips to Crowley’s, a tender, lingering kiss, and Crowley whimpered against his mouth.

“Oh God... Aziraphale...” Crowley breathed, drawing back and gasping for air. How was that so hot? How was that the most fucking incredible kiss of his life?

“You liked that?”

“Fuck... yeah...”

“I like that you liked it. I _really_ like that.”

“Does it turn you on?”

“Yes.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes closed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Will you sit on the bed with me?”

Aziraphale nodded and Crowley took his hand, not wanting to completely let go of him even for a few seconds. They kept their hands clasped together as they sat side-by-side, and Crowley leaned in to press another gentle, chaste kiss to Aziraphale’s lips.

“Is this ok?”

“Yes. It feels good.”

Crowley brought his free hand up to rest lightly on Aziraphale’s shoulder, kissing him again and again and again. Crowley gasped when Aziraphale leaned forward and pressed their lips together at the same time, a bolt of electricity striking through his body. He’d never felt anything quite like this.

“Oh wow... did you like that?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered, leaning in again, and now they were actually _kissing each other_ , and every kiss was tender and delicate and _perfect_.

“Talk to me, Aziraphale. Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want, Crowley.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I mean... tell me if you want me to try anything else, or if you just want to keep doing this. Anything you want. I just want to make you feel good, angel.”

“You can try different things, Crowley. I trust you. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

“Ok... ok...” Crowley smoothed his fingertips through Aziraphale’s hair with a feather-light touch, then brushed his soft blond curls back from his forehead with the back of his hand. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered closed. “Part your lips slightly for me.” Aziraphale’s eyes shot back open and for a second Crowley thought he was about to object, but he licked his lips and did as Crowley had asked. “Yes, that’s perfect...”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s bottom lip between both of his own, holding still for a moment, then darted his tongue out, just touching the very tip of it to Aziraphale’s lip. Aziraphale reached out for him, grasping at his arm, their other hands still entwined between them.

“Please do that again.”

Crowley cradled Aziraphale’s nape with his hand, holding him gently in place as he lowered his mouth back down, flicking his tongue out a few times against Aziraphale’s lip before slowly dragging it along the length of it. Aziraphale clutched Crowley’s arm more tightly and let out a quiet, contented sound against his mouth, and Crowley caught it in a kiss.

“Perfect, angel... you’re perfect. You like this?”

“Yes, you feel amazing, Crowley.”

Crowley repeated the action, this time teasingly licking Aziraphale’s top lip. He felt Aziraphale’s lips part further, and instinctively darted his tongue out between them, but Aziraphale pulled back away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale whispered.

“It’s ok, don’t apologise for anything, ok?” Aziraphale released his grip on Crowley and brought his arm protectively across his stomach, gazing down into his lap. “Hey, Aziraphale, it’s ok. This is great. You’ve already found something you like and something you don’t, that’s good, right?”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“I’m not being patient; I don’t need to be patient with you. Every second with you is amazing, it always has been, whatever we’re doing.”

Aziraphale smiled, and then they were kissing each other again, and Crowley had no idea how long for, but he already knew he could never ever get bored of it. He pushed gently on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and Aziraphale fell back onto the bed. Crowley planted his palms on either side of Aziraphale to hold himself up, not breaking their kiss.

“This isn’t very comfortable,” Aziraphale noted after a few minutes.

“Yeah. Would you like to lie down properly?”

Aziraphale didn’t answer with words, but wriggled out from beneath Crowley and shuffled up the bed, settling himself with his head on Crowley’s pillow. Crowley’s mouth hung open and he just stared at him for a moment, his eyes pricking with tears once again.

_Aziraphale is lying on my bed. Oh my God this is actually happening. He actually wants me._

“Crowley? Are you all right? Do you not want to...” Aziraphale began, shifting on the bed, and Crowley pulled his knees up to kneel beside him, his feet dangling over the edge of his narrow single bed.

“I absolutely _do_ want to... I’m just having a moment here. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you actually _want_ me.”

“More than I’ve ever wanted anything. What do you want, Crowley? Please tell me.”

“Take your jumper off for me?”

Aziraphale shuffled up and pulled his jumper over his head, fluffing up his hair in the process. His round cheeks were flushed red and he looked more incredible than Crowley could ever remember seeing him, even including the Heaven and Hell party at which Aziraphale’s costume had earned him a nickname for life, and where he had looked so fucking hot that Crowley had momentarily forgotten how to breathe. Crowley thought about that party just now, the first themed party any of them had ever persuaded Aziraphale to attend, and he wondered whether Aziraphale had gone to it because _Crowley_ wanted him to, because he’d wanted them to wear matching costumes. That party had happened five months ago, right at the end of second year exams.

“Look at you... you look so good...” Crowley whispered before kissing Aziraphale again, this time trailing kisses over his cheek and down his neck, encouraged by Aziraphale’s sighs of pleasure. “Tilt your head back for me, yes... like that...” Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale’s skin as he pressed a series of kisses down his throat. “You can touch me if you want. Anything you want.”

Crowley shivered when one of Aziraphale’s hands found its way into his hair, stroking it tenderly, while the other rested lightly just above his hip. Crowley tugged slightly at the collar of Aziraphale’s T-shirt, kissing the hollow of his throat and then working his way as far along his collarbone as he could before he was blocked by the fabric. He kept his kisses soft and gentle, resisting the urge to suck and bite at Aziraphale’s soft, plush skin. He’d promised he would go slow, and there was not a snowball’s chance in hell that he was going to break that promise. Aziraphale’s chest was rising and falling rapidly beneath him, and the sound of Aziraphale’s ragged breaths in his ear was driving Crowley crazy. That he could make Aziraphale feel like this just by kissing him was more thrilling than anything he’d ever done before.

“Can I put my hands under your T-shirt, angel? Want to feel you.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale sighed, and Crowley slipped his hands beneath the hem, and Aziraphale felt so soft and warm, better than Crowley could have imagined. “I love this.”

“What? Tell me exactly what you like.”

“Everything you’re doing, and I love all the... talking.”

“Talking?”

“When you ask me to do things. When you say nice to things to me.”

“Oh... _really_? That’s _very_ good to know,” Crowley drawled near Aziraphale’s ear, running his hands up over his chest. Aziraphale’s grip on Crowley’s hip tightened. “Do you like when I tell how gorgeous you are? How _perfect_ you are?”

“Yes.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m never gonna stop. I love everything about you... you have no idea what you do to me.”

Aziraphale started playing with the hem of Crowley’s shirt, pushing it up slightly and running his hand over the exposed skin above the waistband of Crowley’s jeans.

“I can take it off if you want,” Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale’s neck, and he felt, rather than saw, Aziraphale nod rapidly in response. Crowley sat up and smiled, reaching up to undo the top button.

“Wait... let me do it.”

“Yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded again, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth and shuffling up so that they were sitting face-to-face, eyes locked on each other as Aziraphale began unbuttoning Crowley’s shirt. Heat was continuing to build in Crowley’s abdomen as he watched the movement of Aziraphale’s fingers, completely captivated as he slipped one button free and then trailed his fingertips tenderly over the fabric of Crowley’s shirt down to the next one. Crowley was starting to regret wearing his tightest pair of jeans tonight.

“That is so hot... watching you do that...” Crowley’s voice was low and rumbling, and Aziraphale visibly swallowed. When he had released the last button, Aziraphale pushed his hands underneath the fabric, one on each side of Crowley’s chest, and lightly traced his fingertips down to his stomach. Crowley tilted his head back and leaned into the touch, and suddenly Aziraphale’s lips were on his throat, kissing Crowley the way Crowley had kissed _him_ moments ago, and when Crowley moaned in response, Aziraphale pushed him back onto the bed, planting kisses all along his collarbone and over his chest and stomach, Crowley’s shirt falling open at his sides.

“Angel... yes... that feels good... that’s so good...”

“Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“Crowley, please...” Aziraphale nuzzled at the crook of Crowley’s neck before continuing to kiss him.

“Ok... I love how you’re kissing my neck, you don’t have to be so gentle... only if you want to, you can bite me, suck at my skin, use your tongue maybe.”

Aziraphale’s lips hovered over Crowley’s neck for a while, the lightest touch, and the anticipation drove Crowley wild. Aziraphale parted his lips, and Crowley shuddered as he felt the slightest graze of his teeth against his skin. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. Don’t do it if you don’t want to though, angel. Please. You don’t have to do anything just because I like it. I’ll only like it if you do, anyway.”

“Will you show me what to do?”

“Like on my arm or something?”

“On me.”

Crowley groaned in response to that, trying to catch his breath as another wave of arousal rippled through his body. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

With barely enough room to lie side-by-side, they awkwardly shuffled around and switched places with each other, Aziraphale once again lying back with his head on the pillow. Crowley’s heart had been pounding since Aziraphale said, ‘I want you’, but now it fluttered with nerves. Crowley so badly wanted to make this good for him. He drew in a deep breath and lowered his lips to Aziraphale’s smooth, flushed skin, nipping and sucking at his flesh, gently at first and then harder and more insistent, tenderly soothing it with his tongue. Aziraphale moaned loudly, grasping frantically at the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

“Feel good, angel?”

“I... yes... I can’t believe how good...” Aziraphale gasped, writhing on the bed.

“Hold still for me,” Crowley instructed, more to see how Aziraphale responded to being given another instruction than because he actually intended for him to comply, Aziraphale’s quiet whimper and the way his breathing hitched in response filling Crowley with pride. Crowley returned his attention to Aziraphale’s neck.

“Wait... let me do that for _you_.”

Aziraphale wriggled around and managed to flip Crowley over, sending another pulse of arousal straight to his groin.

“Hold me down while you do it,” Crowley growled, his mind momentarily clouded by desire. His stomach lurched when he realised what he’d said. He needed to stay in control.

“What do you mean?”

“I just... I liked it when you flipped me over just then. You’re strong; I want to feel how strong you are. Maybe just... instead of pressing down on the bed to hold yourself up, press down on my chest or my shoulders.”

“All right. Thank you, Crowley.”

“Don’t say thank you, you have nothing to thank me for. Please kiss me, angel.”

Aziraphale studied him for a moment, his eyes flicking between Crowley’s lips, neck, shoulders and chest. It was as though he were planning a strategy, and all Crowley could do was lie there and wait to see what he would do. Crowley squirmed, shifting his hips on the bed. His jeans were so uncomfortable now, he wondered whether he should ask Aziraphale if he would mind him getting changed into his tracksuit bottoms or his pyjamas or something. He stopped thinking about this, and everything else, when Aziraphale spread each of his hands over Crowley’s chest, drawing his fingertips together and then flexing them back out a few times, his fingernails grazing lightly over Crowley’s nipples. Aziraphale then stilled his hands and started to apply pressure, building in intensity until he was pinning Crowley to the bed. Crowley gasped and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes, angel... yes...”

And then Aziraphale’s mouth was on his throat, trailing sucking kisses along the length of it, licking and biting, and Crowley moaned wantonly, clutching at the bed sheets and twisting the fabric in his grasp. Aziraphale pulled back, increasing the pressure on Crowley’s chest to raise himself up, looking at him with so much heat and intensity in his eyes that Crowley thought he might actually melt.

“I really like that. When you respond like that... it makes me feel...”

“What?” Crowley panted. “How do you feel?”

“Like I stop thinking.”

“Do you like that?”

“Yes. I don’t think I would with anyone else, but yes, I like it with you.”

“Thank you so much for trusting me, it means so much to me, Aziraphale, so much.” Crowley sat up and closed the distance between them, kissing Aziraphale and tenderly running his hands up and down his back. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him again, and they sat like that for a long time, just holding each other as they sat on the bed, rocking gently from side to side. Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley’s neck and then rested his head on his shoulder, his breaths settling into an even, steady rhythm.

“Do you want to go to sleep now? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I could hold you and kiss you all night, I just know it’s past your bedtime,” Crowley teased. “You can stay here with me, if you like.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I definitely want you to stay if you want to. What we do is up to you. I was fully intending to be awake until four.”

“I’d like to get into bed with you. I should go and get changed.”

“Ok. I’ll do that too.”

“Could you... could you leave your top off?”

Crowley grinned. “Absolutely.”

As soon as the stupidly heavy door slammed shut behind Aziraphale (the only way to make it not slam was to hold it and carefully ease it closed, and Crowley was pleased that Aziraphale had clearly been in too much of a hurry to want to do that), Crowley unbuttoned his jeans, whispering, ‘thank God,’ as he tugged them off. He debated with himself for a moment whether to take off his boxers so he would only be wearing his pyjama bottoms, but decided against it. Layers were probably a good idea, it would give Aziraphale more options, should he want them. Feeling immeasurably more comfortable, Crowley slipped under the covers, lying as close to the edge of the bed as he could without falling off to give Aziraphale plenty of room. Well, as much room as possible in his tiny bed.

Crowley heard a knock on his bedroom door and his heart started swimming in his chest. Aziraphale was always so _polite_ , so proper. He even used correct punctuation and grammar in his text messages. He was fucking _adorable_.

_I can’t believe he actually wants to be with me._

“May I come in?” Aziraphale called through the door.

“Of course you can,” Crowley replied softly. Crowley intentionally didn’t say ‘of course you may’ because it would sound ridiculous for Crowley to say such a thing, even if it was proper English.

“Hello again.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Come here.” Crowley lifted up the duvet and Aziraphale smiled nervously, climbing in beside him. Crowley shuffled backwards a little more, having to tense his muscles to stop himself from falling out of the bed, determined to maintain the space between them until Aziraphale requested otherwise. They both managed to fit their heads on the pillow, turned to face each other with their noses almost touching. Crowley took the opportunity to lean in for a kiss, thrilled when Aziraphale kissed him back. “So what do you think?” Crowley asked, carding his hand through Aziraphale’s hair. “What would you like to do? Are you sleepy?”

“No, I feel very awake. I think I’d like for you to hold me, would that be all right?”

“Yes, of course.” Crowley moved to wrap his arms around Aziraphale, but at the same time Aziraphale rolled over so that he was facing away from him. _Oh_...

Crowley scooted up to Aziraphale, pressing his chest along the length of his back and draping his arm over him, hugging him closer. He bent his knees and slotted his legs into position behind Aziraphale’s, but pushed his hips back to make sure his groin didn’t come into contact with him. It took a great deal of self control not to thrust his hips forward. Aziraphale sighed contentedly and began lightly stroking Crowley’s arm. It was sweet and intimate, almost enough to distract Crowley from the _situation_ in his boxers, until Aziraphale shuffled back against him, pressing himself against Crowley’s erection. Crowley hissed and clutched Aziraphale tighter.

“ _Fuck_ , Aziraphale...”

“Is that bad?”

“Fuck... no... it’s amazing...”

Aziraphale rolled his hips, rubbing himself against Crowley, the friction producing sensations not quite like anything Crowley had experienced before. It was intense, his whole body tingling and pulsing, and he realised that he had never taken things slow before. He might have, if he had known this would be the reward. Or was it just because this was _Aziraphale_ , and because he loved him? People always said it was different with someone you love, and despite all of his experience, that was something Crowley had never had the opportunity to learn, until now.

“I like this.”

“Yeah? You like feeling me hard against you?”

“Yes.”

Crowley’s self control slipped and his hips thrust involuntarily against Aziraphale.

“Shit! Sorry, angel.”

“No, I like it. Please do that again.”

Crowley began thrusting against Aziraphale more insistently, holding onto him tightly and kissing his neck, moaning and hissing just behind his ear. He could feel Aziraphale’s rapid pulse as he pressed his lips to his skin.

“I love this,” Aziraphale whispered. “You feel really good; I love the sounds you’re making.” Crowley bit down on the skin beneath Aziraphale’s ear and he cried out with pleasure, and Crowley’s brain shut down completely. “Crowley, wait...”

Crowley froze instantly and shuffled away, and Aziraphale rolled back over to face him. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

“Don’t be sorry. That was _amazing_. I told you, we can stop whenever you want. I just want to make you happy. Anything you want, angel.”

“But Crowley... you...”

“What is it, angel? Please talk to me.”

“I can’t just expect you to _stop_.”

“Of course you can.”

“Crowley, I... I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry, it’s ok. If you want, you could tell me when you want to stop and I’ll go and, you know, do some _solo travelling_? Would you be comfortable with that? If not, it’s ok, it’ll go away on its own eventually.”

“That can’t be very pleasant.”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

“If we kept doing what we were doing, do you think you would... how long do you... I don’t think I’d be comfortable with...” Aziraphale shrunk in on himself, his muscles tense and his arms held tightly across his body.

“Ok, ok, it’s ok,” Crowley soothed, smoothing his hand through Aziraphale’s hair and kissing him tenderly. “What would you like me to do?”

“Will you touch yourself?”

“Yeah, ok. Can I think about you?” Crowley had never allowed himself to think about Aziraphale like that before, he’d never wanted to, not without his consent. Aziraphale’s skin was already flushed, but Crowley thought he could see a blush on his cheeks as he nodded. “Really? Wow... ok... right, I’ll go and... deal with this. Thank you, angel.” Crowley kissed him again and then shuffled to the edge of the bed. At least the others were still out, so they wouldn’t deduce what he’d been up to in their shared bathroom.

“Wait, Crowley, no, don’t go... I meant... I want you to do that here.”

“Here? Like... now? With you here?”

“I’m sorry, is that weird? Do people not do that?”

“No, no, no, it’s not weird! Not at all, people totally do that. It’s good. Wow... yeah... you sure? You want me to do that now?”

“Yes please.”

“Ok.”

Crowley locked eyes with Aziraphale as he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, letting out a shuddering breath as he wrapped his fingers around himself and started to move his hand. His movements were restricted by the confining material, but he was pretty sure Aziraphale didn’t intend for him to undress, and he didn’t want to ask. Crowley clenched his teeth and gave Aziraphale a heated stare, and Aziraphale’s eyes widened and his lips parted.

“Aziraphale...”

Aziraphale didn’t take his eyes off him, and it was so insanely erotic that Crowley was forced to acknowledge that the experience probably wouldn’t last very long. He squeezed his eyes shut, and his pulse spiked when he felt the duvet being peeled back away from him. He could feel the weight of it at his feet, where Aziraphale had apparently folded it over. Probably so fucking neatly with the corners lined up, fucking glorious, posh bastard...

“Oh fuck, Aziraphale...”

“Is this all right?”

“Yes, this is perfect. I _want_ you to watch me. That’s so hot, so fucking hot.”

Crowley wasn’t exactly _exposed_ , but the cold air was rushing in under his waistband as he held the fabric away as best he could with his left hand, enhancing the sensations he was experiencing. Aziraphale’s gaze was fixed on him, like he was studying the movement of Crowley’s hand beneath the fabric, and the sight of _that_ was quite possibly the hottest thing Crowley had ever seen in his life.

“I like this. I like watching you. Thank you for doing this for me, Crowley.”

Crowley wasn’t thinking about anything but the sight of Aziraphale sat beside him, hair ruffled up, cheeks flushed, lips moist and parted, watching him with lustful eyes. Aziraphale started scanning along the length of Crowley’s body, and when they locked eyes, Crowley felt the heat deep in his abdomen build even more, a tight ball of fire within him, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip. The fire intensified as Aziraphale reached out and began stroking his fingertips up and down Crowley’s chest and stomach, moving methodically and reverently, like he was admiring him, _studying_ him, and Crowley’s mind was flooded with images of lying naked with Aziraphale, letting him inspect every inch of his body... Aziraphale stilled his hands and leaned down to kiss Crowley’s neck, pressing his hands to Crowley’s chest and holding him down against the bed.

“Fuck! Angel, yes! _Fuck_...”

Crowley came over his hand inside his boxers, shuddering against the bed, and Aziraphale released his hold on him, stroking his hair back away from his eyes.

“That was wonderful... thank you, Crowley.”

“Aziraphale... that was fucking _amazing_...” Crowley panted, feeling dizzy and pressing his cheek into the pillow, trying to catch his breath.

“I made you feel good,” Aziraphale whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. Crowley wanted to take him in his arms and squeeze him and tell him how perfect he was and how he’d made Crowley feel not just _good_ but more incredible than he had ever felt in his life, but there were a couple of things in the way of that plan. Firstly, Crowley didn’t think he could even lift his head from the pillow just yet. Secondly, he really needed to clean up, he wasn’t sure Aziraphale would be comfortable coming into contact with... that.

“Amazing. Perfect. Can’t move,” Crowley mumbled into the pillow, and Aziraphale kept playing with his hair, running his fingers through the long strands, and it was absolutely fucking _divine_. Crowley felt the duvet being brought up to cover him, and Aziraphale snuggled up behind him, the two of them slotting together like two jigsaw pieces made for each other. That was when Crowley became aware of the _situation_ in _Aziraphale’s_ pyjama bottoms. The only word Crowley could think of to accurately describe how he was feeling at that moment was _honoured_. Crowley rocked back gently against him, and Aziraphale moaned softly. “Aziraphale... do you want...”

Aziraphale rocked his hips gently against Crowley, pressing kisses to his shoulder. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s warm breath against his skin as he sighed and gasped quietly, and as everything was with Aziraphale, each movement seemed to be slow and deliberate, shifting his position slightly or altering the speed or intensity each time he thrust against Crowley, like he was getting a feel for what he liked best.

“You can touch yourself too, if you like,” Crowley suggested.

“Would you enjoy that?”

“If _you_ would then yeah, absolutely.”

“All right. Yes, I think I’d like that. Can I think about you?”

“Fucking hell yes, anytime you want.”

“Thank you. I’ve wanted to... I wasn’t sure if I could.”

“You can. You absolutely can. I want you to. Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll be right back?”

Aziraphale nodded and Crowley slipped out of the bed, rushing to the bathroom on wobbly legs to clean up as quickly as possible. He slipped his pyjama bottoms back on but dropped his boxers into his washing hamper as soon as he got back to the bedroom.

Aziraphale had rolled onto his back, and scooted over to the edge of the bed to let Crowley climb in beside him.

“Where were we?” Crowley drawled, kissing Aziraphale a few times on the lips. He could hear the rustling of fabric under the duvet, and felt overwhelmed with love, amazed that Aziraphale trusted him enough to do this, that he _wanted_ to do this with him.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to do anything?”

“Will you talk to me?” _Like travelling alone but striking up a conversation with the person sitting next to you on the plane_ , Crowley thought, but decided not to say it aloud. This was hardly the time to make stupid jokes.

“Of course, angel.” Crowley shuffled up beside him so he could whisper in Aziraphale’s ear. “I love that you’re doing that, I want you to think about me, the things we’ve done together that you liked, other things you’d like to try, or just things you enjoy thinking about... I love thinking about you doing that, I want you to feel good, angel, I can’t believe you’re here in my bed with me. Do you want me to kiss you? I could kiss your neck for you?”

“Yes... yes please Crowley... like you were doing before.”

Crowley propped himself up and undid two buttons at the top of Aziraphale’s pyjama shirt and then lowered himself down, kissing and licking, sucking and biting, pausing every few seconds to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear, to tell him how much he loved what he was doing, to tell him how good he felt, how much he loved the sounds he was making. Crowley gasped when Aziraphale grabbed hold of his hand, bringing it to rest on top of his own, separated only by the fabric of his pyjama bottoms. Crowley could feel the movement of Aziraphale’s hand beneath his, and as he pressed down gently, Aziraphale cried out his name and convulsed, his body trembling as he rode out his orgasm.

“Oh, angel... _thank you_... that was incredible.”

“Crowley... thank you. Thank you so much.”

Crowley leaned down and kissed him, and Aziraphale kissed him back, and Crowley felt like he was literally glowing.

“Will you sleep here with me?”

“Yes, of course, I’d like that. I just need to pop to the bathroom.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Crowley smiled.

When Aziraphale came back, wearing pyjamas with a very slightly different tartan pattern (so subtle that most likely only Crowley would notice), he climbed into the bed and they wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms, holding each other until they fell asleep.


	5. 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has a present for Crowley that might make long-distance a bit more bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more MSN Messenger nostalgia in this chapter! For info, a PGCE is a Postgraduate Certificate in Education.

**21 st October 2006**

Crowley grinned when the notification popped up letting him know that Aziraphale was now online. There was nothing quite as exciting as the little blobman beside Aziraphale’s name turning green on MSN. He was about to send him a nudge, but Aziraphale beat him to it and started a conversation.

**Aziraphale says:**

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :-)

**Crowley (got my methyltransferase good luck cuttin’ nothin’) says:**

hey!!! thank you!! *kiss*

**Aziraphale says:**

I wish I was there with you. :-( I miss you so much.

**Crowley (got my methyltransferase good luck cuttin’ nothin’) says:**

I miss you too gorgeous

Crowley added a whole series of emoticons at the end of his message, including the red heart with a smiley face on it, the kissy lips, and the one with the hearts for eyes.

**Aziraphale says:**

May I call you later?

**Crowley (got my methyltransferase good luck cuttin’ nothin’) says:**

of course! u don’t have 2 ask 2 call me!!

**Aziraphale says:**

I know, I just wasn’t sure when you would be available to talk.

**Crowley (got my methyltransferase good luck cuttin’ nothin’) says:**

free now if u want? going Nandos with some of the guys from my course later but other than that having a lazy day and talking 2 my angel :-)

**Aziraphale says:**

Yes that’s great, I’ll call you now!

Crowley set his status to ‘Appear Offline’ and pulled his phone out of his pocket, waiting for Aziraphale to call. He had half-hoped Aziraphale would ask about his MSN display name because he was actually pretty proud of it, although Aziraphale probably didn’t even know who the Scissor Sisters were, but Crowley hoped he might at least find the science part a little bit interesting. Aziraphale always made an effort to listen and understand when Crowley talked about things he’d learnt on his course. He was now three weeks into his MSc in Botany, and was surprised by how much he was enjoying the Genetics module.

Crowley’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he pressed the button to accept the call immediately.

“Hey, angel.”

“Hello, Crowley! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks.”

“At least it’s Saturday so you have the day off!” Aziraphale said brightly. Crowley appreciated the effort he was making to sound cheerful. They’d both been feeling pretty down about not being able to spend Crowley’s birthday together. They hadn’t actually seen each other for five weeks now, not since Aziraphale had left for Birmingham to complete his week-long primary school placement before starting his Secondary English PGCE.

“Yeah, I guess that’s something. I wish I could see you. Miss you so much it hurts.”

“I miss you too. I hate being away from you. I do have something that I think might cheer you up a little bit, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I assume you haven’t opened your present yet.”

“You asked me not to open it until we spoke, so of course I haven’t, don’t you trust me?” Crowley teased. He may, however, have held it in his hands a few times and tried to work out what it might be from the weight of it. Crowley had never been that good at keeping his curiosity in check.

“Of course I do! Well, you can open it now. I do hope you like it.”

“Ok, hang on.” Crowley squished the phone between his shoulder and his ear, pulling out the beautifully gift-wrapped box (complete with a ribbon, in tartan of course, and a matching bow), which had come inside a plain brown delivery box with a postmark on it from Edgbaston, Birmingham. Crowley’s heart had skipped with excitement when he’d seen it. “Right, I’ve got it. Lovely wrapping job by the way.”

“Thank you. If you’re careful, you could save the paper and use it to wrap _my_ birthday present.”

“Who says I’m getting you a present?” Crowley joked. “Besides, I don’t think I could bring myself to wrap anything up with a _tartan ribbon_.”

“Tartan is stylish!”

Crowley chuckled, keeping the phone wedged close to his ear with his shoulder as he carefully undid the neat bow that Aziraphale had tied in the ribbon and peeled off the sellotape holding the paper together. The paper fell open and Crowley grinned. It was a Logitech webcam.

“Are you sure this isn’t a present for _you_ , angel?”

“I suppose it is really, but don’t worry, I’ve got one too! Now we can actually see each other! It says they’re compatible with MSN Messenger.”

“This is brilliant. This is so fucking brilliant! Do you think they’re easy to set up? I want to see you now!”

“I hope so. My brother helped me choose them when he came up to visit, he said they’re ‘plug and play’, apparently that means you just plug it in to the USB port on the computer and it should work without having to install anything. Although I’ve taken mine out of the box and there’s a CD with it, so I’m not really sure. I was hoping we could set them up together.”

“Yes, let’s do it! Do you have broadband in your flat?”

“Yes, do you?”

“Yeah. This is going to be awesome, I can’t believe I’m going to actually get to see you today!”

“Me neither, I can’t wait!”

“See you back on MSN in a bit then, save your minutes?”

“Yes, ok! I’ll _see_ you in a bit,” Aziraphale giggled excitedly.

Crowley hung up the phone, and was practically trembling with excitement as he unwrapped the spherical webcam and its little stand from the clear plastic wrapping, unravelling the cable and plugging it into his laptop’s USB port. The picture on the front of the box showed a woman smiling into her webcam mounted on top of her monitor, but Crowley’s attempts to fit the stand to the top of his laptop screen failed. Presumably it hadn't been designed to fit onto a laptop since most laptops on sale now had webcams built into them, but Crowley’s was... he didn’t even know how old, it had been second hand when his parents had got it for him in year 12. Instead, Crowley retrieved some of his thickest textbooks from his shelving unit, stacking them up on the desk and positioning the webcam on top of them, lifting the flap that was covering the camera lens. He ignored the CD in the box, things often came with extra software that wasn’t actually essential, hoping it would just work.

Crowley changed his MSN status from ‘Appear Offline’ to ‘Busy’, not particularly wanting to talk to anyone else but wanting Aziraphale to be able to see that he was online. Hardly one for reading manuals, Crowley poked around in the various menus on MSN until he found the ‘start a video call’ option, and then sent Aziraphale a nudge, and the window wobbled accordingly.

**You have just sent a Nudge!**

**Aziraphale says:**

I’ve plugged it in but I’m not sure what to do now.

**Crowley (got my methyltransferase good luck cuttin’ nothin’) says:**

i’ve plugged mine in too let me try something

Crowley navigated back to the main window and clicked on ‘start a video call’. He selected Aziraphale, and then his heart started beating faster when another window popped up, although he could only see the very top of Aziraphale’s head. It was still enough to make Crowley’s entire body thrum with excitement.

“Can you hear me?” Aziraphale’s voice materialised over the speakers on Crowley’s laptop.

“Yes, I can hear you!”

“I think I need to tilt it down a bit, just a moment.”

Crowley saw Aziraphale’s hand appear on the screen, and his heart rate picked up even more. He was grinning so much his face hurt. The image being displayed then changed rapidly, going through a quick view of Aziraphale’s desk, his chair, and then, with an accompanying thud, his floor.

“Oh, _fuck_!”

Crowley snorted with laughter. “You ok there, angel?”

“The ball bit fell out of the stand bit.”

“Yes, I can see that. Nice carpet.”

It wasn’t. It was hideous, burgundy with dark blue floral patterns, but this flat had been all that Aziraphale could afford with his bursary. At least he’d been able to give up working part-time, from what he’d told Crowley, the PGCE seemed like more work than a full-time job.

“Ah, that’s better.” Aziraphale smiled at the camera, and Crowley beamed at the image of his boyfriend, but noticed that while he was doing that, Aziraphale could only see the side of his face.

“Let me move my pile of books.” Crowley grabbed another textbook to raise the camera up even higher, and rearranged everything on his desk so that the webcam was now perched just above his screen. He probably should have thought of that before. “Hey.”

“Hello. You look nice.”

“I look like shit,” Crowley corrected. He’d been up for about an hour but he hadn’t got dressed yet or done anything to try to sort out his hair, which fell in messy waves around his face.

“You look like you’ve just been in bed, a sight that has very pleasant associations for me.”

“Ohhh... is that so?” Crowley drawled, and Aziraphale blushed and dipped his head, turning slightly away from the camera.

“Of course it is,” he replied bashfully.

“Hey, you know this means we can talk as much as we want for free?”

“I know, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Thank you so much for my present! Best present ever! You look amazing, by the way. You’ve got your cuddle jumper on.”

Aziraphale pressed his hands to the front of his jumper, stroking his thumbs across the fabric, and Crowley licked his lips. He had _thoughts_ , but he had developed enough restraint by now to not immediately voice those thoughts out loud.

“I put it on especially for you, I know you like it. So, what are you in the mood for now?”

“Want to play a game?”

“Solitaire Showdown?”

“No fucking way, you always cheat!”

“I do _not_!”

“You play _strategically_... you make it so I can’t win.”

“Well, you’ve already proven yourself a formidable adversary, and if I can’t win, the best I can do is to try to thwart _you_ and secure a draw.”

“Yeah, because _that’s_ fun. My birthday, my choice of game. Minesweeper Flags.”

“Yes, all right, my dear. Perhaps, since it _is_ your birthday, I’ll even let you win.”

“As if! I am king of the minefield!”

They started the game, but Crowley wasn’t completely concentrating on it, distracted by being able to actually _see_ Aziraphale and the adorable way his eyes narrowed and he nibbled on his bottom lip as he calculated which squares were safe to click on, filling Crowley’s mind with thoughts of kissing him.

“I have an idea...” Crowley began in a tone that he suspected Aziraphale would recognise. Over the past year he and Aziraphale had tried many different things, helping Aziraphale to work out what he actually enjoyed when it came to sex. They had discovered things he absolutely loved, things he enjoyed occasionally, things he didn’t want to try again and things they had tried but he’d wanted to abandon almost immediately. There were also the things Aziraphale knew he never wanted to try, but he always encouraged Crowley to ask if there was something he thought he would like so that they could talk about it, and they’d never had _webcams_ before...

“Hmm?”

“We play a few rounds of this, and when one of us loses a round we have to take off an item of clothing.”

“I did tell you about my plan to keep the central heating off until December to save money, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, how’s that going?”

“It’s freezing already and it’s not even November! It’s colder up here than it is in London.”

“That’s a no, then?” Crowley asked with a smile.

“No, no, I didn’t say that. I was more trying to alert you to my considerable advantage. I’m wearing three layers beneath this jumper, and _you_ are still wearing your pyjamas.”

“Good thing I’m awesome at Minesweeper Flags then, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale looked up, right into the lens of the webcam, smiling and licking his lips. Bastard. Crowley concentrated as hard as he could, playing more cagily than normal, and, in the end, he was victorious. Part of him wondered whether Aziraphale had let him win because it was his birthday. Another part, the part he wanted to believe, wondered whether Aziraphale had let him win because he liked the idea of undressing for Crowley on the webcam. In reality, though, Crowley had probably won fair and square. He had clocked up hundreds more hours playing this game over the past few years than Aziraphale had. It was a fantastic procrastination aid.

“To the victor go the spoils!” Crowley spread his arms out to his sides and then made a ‘gimme’ gesture at the webcam. Aziraphale sighed with mock exasperation and moved his hands to the hem of his jumper, pulling it half way up over his torso and then pausing to look into the webcam for a second before lifting it up over his head. He folded it neatly and placed it on the bed behind him (his bedroom, which Crowley hadn’t had chance to visit yet, was apparently small enough that he could reach the bed without having to move from the desk) and then ran his hand through his hair a few times. Crowley watched every second of it, mesmerised.

“Oh wow that’s hot... my boyfriend’s undressing for me on webcam...” 

“I would hardly characterise that as _undressing_ , Crowley.”

“Well, I’m enjoying myself, anyway,” Crowley winked. “Why are you wearing a proper shirt?”

“It has long sleeves.”

“Aww... you trying to make me feel guilty about making you cold?”

“There’s no need to feel guilty, as long as you find a way to keep me warm.” Aziraphale dipped his head and looked up into the lens of the webcam through his eyelashes.

“You’re _flirting_ with me! You’re flirting with me using a _webcam_ , I fucking _love it_!” Crowley threw his head back and leant back in his chair, allowing himself to consider that Aziraphale might have dressed nicely because he _expected_ something like this to happen. If Crowley was that predictable, he really didn’t mind. Although maybe he wasn’t that predictable after all, maybe Aziraphale just knew him really well.

“Perhaps I will be able to provide enough of a distraction to beat you next time.” Aziraphale unfastened the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves and began rolling them up to his elbows.

“Oh no, that’s not fair! You know that posh shirt with the sleeves rolled up is my kryptonite!”

“This was _your_ idea, Crowley.”

Crowley leaned his chin on the back of his hand and stared at the image of Aziraphale on the screen, ignoring the prompt that had appeared inviting him to begin another game of Minesweeper Flags. Crowley had hundreds of photos of Aziraphale saved on his laptop and on Facebook, which he looked at every single day, but watching him through the webcam was _something else_. Just sitting there, just existing, Aziraphale was captivating.

“Crowley, love?”

“Just give me a minute. I’m _looking_. Will you look into the camera for me?”

Aziraphale complied with Crowley’s request, looking straight into the lens and giving Crowley a coy smile. The image of Aziraphale on the screen locked eyes with him, and Crowley felt a jolt of electricity through his body, travelling down his groin. He hummed his approval and licked his lips before accepting the invitation to play another game, smiling at the flush of colour that had developed over Aziraphale’s cheeks. 

At the end of the second game, Crowley made an ostentatious display of pulling his loose, black cotton pyjama top over his head and leaning back in his chair. At the end of the third game, he was treated to a view of Aziraphale taking off his shirt and actually getting up from his chair to put it on a hanger, which he hooked over his door handle. He was wearing a white T-shirt underneath with short sleeves that revealed the lower part of his biceps. Crowley insisted on another pause between games for _looking_ purposes. At the end of the fourth game, Aziraphale looked into the camera with a sympathetic pout.

“Oh dear... are you even wearing boxers under those?”

“As a matter of fact no, I’m not.”

“What a pity. I suppose this means I win, then?”

_Smug bastard. Gorgeous perfect glorious smug bastard._

“S’not fair. You distracted me with your arms.”

Aziraphale laughed. “What a terrible boyfriend I am.”

Pleased that the flat he was now living in was so small and surrounded by others that it absorbed the heat from his neighbours and therefore never seemed to get cold, Crowley hooked his thumbs under his waistband and looked into the camera.

“Want me to scoot back on my chair so you can see?”

“Oh...”

“It’s ok if you don’t want to.”

“No, I would. I’d like that. I’d like to see you.”

“Ok... here you go then, your _prize_.” Crowley rolled his desk chair back on its wheels so that he was further away from the camera, and could see on the screen that he was visible to his knees. He lifted himself up a little way off the chair, just enough to slip his pyjama bottoms off, and let them drop to the floor, kicking them away with his feet. Crowley hooked his hands over the top of the desk chair and leaned back, wishing he had a better view of Aziraphale’s reaction.

“Oh... you look _amazing_. I never realised quite how much you enjoy Minesweeper Flags, no wonder you spend so many hours playing it,” Aziraphale teased.

“Rest assured I don’t normally get hard from playing Minesweeper Flags,” Crowley laughed. “Do you not think seeing my gorgeous boyfriend for the first time in five weeks, flaunting his sexy arms no less, might have had something to do with it?” Crowley raised his eyebrows and looked up from the screen into the webcam. “Aziraphale?”

“I’m... looking.” Aziraphale repeated Crowley’s words from earlier, and Crowley recognised that tone, the way Aziraphale’s voice would shift a little lower when he was turned on, and felt more of his blood rush away from his brain, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth.

“Feel free.” Crowley’s own voice was gravelly and low as he leaned back more on his chair and spread his legs a little wider.

“I like looking at you, and I like that you like me looking at you.”

“I know, angel. I’m all yours.”

“Will you touch yourself for me?” Crowley could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest in the image of himself on the screen as he let the effects of Aziraphale’s words wash over him, his whole body tingling. “Only if you want to,” Aziraphale added.

“Fuck, yes, angel, yes of course!” Crowley’s hand grazed over his nipple as he ran it over his chest and stomach before taking himself in hand. “Never done this before.”

“I know. Thank you for doing it for me. You look incredible.”

“This is really hot... I love you so much, Aziraphale. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Crowley. Imagine it’s me touching you.”

“Oh I am... I love that you’re watching me. You can touch yourself too if you like.”

“I am.”

“Yeah? Oh wow, this feels amazing...”

Crowley kept his eyes on the screen, not once looking away from Aziraphale, telling him over and over again how much he loved him and how good he felt, and for the first time in five weeks, a hundred and twenty miles didn’t feel like quite so far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strip Minesweeper Flags... right, well that was a thing.
> 
> Crowley's MSN display name contains a lyric from the Scissor Sisters song "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" which was released in July 2006, and methyltransferase is an enzyme which can modify DNA in a way that stops restriction enzymes (DNA cutting enzymes made by bacteria) from cleaving it.


	6. 2007 - 2009

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale struggle a bit with long distance, but eventually come back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this story just comprises snapshots of their happy, healthy relationship over the years (fluff and mild smut with minimal plot) because lots of people were talking about wanting to see more of that kind of thing to cheer them up right now (and me too tbh, I've had SO MUCH bad news this week)! So, just to say, if you're waiting for the angst, I'm afraid it's not coming! ;-) Aziraphale's anxiety in this chapter is as angsty as it's going to get!
> 
> Quite a few acronyms in this chapter, just for info - NQT = "newly qualified teacher", QTS = "qualified teacher status" and NERC = "Natural Environment Research Council"

**21 st October 2007**

“You sure you’re ok? You seem distracted.” Crowley furrowed his brow and pressed the phone closer to his ear. He could hear Aziraphale sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry, Crowley. Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s your birthday.”

“I know, but you don’t have to pretend to be ok just because it’s my birthday. Is it work?”

“Just Sunday night blues, I suppose. Well, Sunday night _crippling anxiety_ , anyway.”

“Oh, _angel_. What can I do to help?”

“Unfortunately I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It’s just so hard, Crowley. The kids don’t respect me at all and I have no idea what I’m doing. You know I’ve got my next observation on Friday? I’m starting to think they scheduled it for then because they know I’ll be a broken wreck after it, and they want to give me half term to recover. I’m just using the thought of spending next week with you to try and get through it.”

“Do you want me to ask Professor Lorenzo if I can take the whole week off instead?”

“No, Crowley, you’ve only just started.”

“She won’t mind. I’m just reading a load of papers for now, anyway.”

“You’re not going to be able to have all the school holidays off with me, it’s better for you to save your days off for later in the year. Tell me about your PhD instead. What have you been reading about?”

“Ok, in a minute, but before we move on... you know you don’t have to finish your NQT year, right? If you really hate it that much, if it’s making you feel really anxious, maybe you should just quit? You don’t need QTS if you don’t actually want to be a teacher, and you’ll still have your PGCE. Maybe you could do something else with it?”

The thought of Aziraphale alone and anxious up in Birmingham made Crowley feel sick, like his insides had been tied into knots. He desperately wanted to save him from it, to go and rescue him and bring him back to his flat, find a way somehow for them both to live off his studentship from NERC. But deep down he knew Aziraphale wouldn’t want that. He’d always worked hard, and he wanted to work hard now... but surely he deserved to do that somewhere that didn’t leave him in floods of tears at least once a week?

“It’s a teaching qualification, Crowley.”

“Yeah, but, there must be other types of teaching you could do? We went on a school trip in year 10 to the Globe theatre; there was this woman who ran a workshop for us about Hamlet. Couldn’t you do something like that?”

“I... I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“That’d be great, wouldn’t it? A few people in my class were being total dickheads as always and it was our teacher who had to sort them out, not the Globe woman, wasn’t her problem, and she got to say goodbye to us at the end of the day and never see us again,” Crowley laughed.

“I imagine jobs like that are very competitive but I’ll look into it, Crowley, thank you. I do want to get through my NQT year if I can, though. I need to give it a proper chance; maybe it’ll get better. Anyway, I’ve done all my prep for the week, I shouldn’t even be thinking about it now. Weren’t you going to tell me about all this reading you’ve been doing?”

“Yes ok angel, prepare to be amazed by the wonders of coastal vegetation!” Crowley forced himself to sound enthusiastic, even though his heart was breaking. He wished that they could be together, so that at least he could hold Aziraphale in his arms, stroke his hair, bring him tea and cake and at least _try_ to make him feel a little less anxious. “Also though, seriously, if it gets too much and you really want to quit, we’ll figure it out, ok? We can go anywhere, do anything we need to do, we’ll always manage. I just want you to be happy. You know how much I love you, right?”

Crowley could hear Aziraphale’s sniffles on the other end of the line, and pressed his hand to his heart.

“Thank you for being so supportive. Thank you for _everything_. I love you too. I love you so, so much.”

**21 st October 2008**

“Guess what?”

Crowley smiled as he felt Aziraphale’s warm breath in his ear as he whispered to him. He snuggled down further into the tartan duvet and pressed back against his boyfriend.

“What?”

“It’s your birthday, and we’re together.”

“Yes we are,” Crowley grinned, mumbling into the pillow, his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s the first time we’ve ever woken up together on your birthday.”

“Oh... yeah, you’re right, it is. Well, that seems like something worth celebrating.” Crowley stretched languorously and rolled over, shuffling further onto Aziraphale’s side of the bed. Aziraphale was absolutely beaming, and oh God it was so good to see him so happy. Crowley’s head invaded Aziraphale’s pillow and they kissed for a while, Crowley humming contentedly against Aziraphale’s mouth. “So... how should we celebrate?”

“I’m going to make you breakfast in bed!” Aziraphale announced excitedly, extracting himself from the duvet and leaning over to tuck it in around Crowley before kissing him one more time on the cheek.

“Aww thanks, angel. Really?”

“Definitely. What would you say to some crepes?”

“Sounds amazing.”

Aziraphale clapped his hands together and got up from the bed, leaving their bedroom with an excited little wiggle. He left the door open, and Crowley listened to the sounds emanating from the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing, the kettle being filled and the crepe mixture being whisked, and felt a warm glow in his chest. They’d been living together for just under two months, and although they’d lived together before, this was different. This flat may have been small, but it was theirs, just _theirs_ , and at least they got twenty-five percent off the council tax bill with Crowley still technically being a student while he was completing his PhD.

Aziraphale returned to the bedroom a little while later carrying a tray full of crepes and tea. Crowley shuffled up and leaned back against the headboard to let Aziraphale set the tray down on his lap before he climbed back into bed beside him. Aziraphale had even put a little jug on the tray with a dandelion flower in it.

“You know this is a weed, right?”

“Yes, I said I’d help you sort out the pots on the balcony, didn’t I? Well, I’ve started.”

“You pulled the whole thing up, did you?”

“Well, no...” Aziraphale admitted sheepishly, and Crowley raised his eyebrow. “It’s pretty. I thought it would be nice.”

“It is, I absolutely love it.” Crowley kissed him gratefully and then they got to work on the crepes, which were always delicious when Aziraphale made them, but they were even more delicious now that Crowley was eating them in bed. “You got much on today?”

“I’ve got a group of year 9s and then year 13s. It’s the first year 13 visit I’m leading on my own, I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Brilliant. I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. I hated how unhappy you were working at that school.”

“Well, I have you to thank for it,” Aziraphale smiled, swallowing his mouthful of crepes and cuddling up to Crowley’s side. Crowley switched his fork to his left hand so that he could wrap his arm around Aziraphale, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Aziraphale had been insistent that he wanted to finish his NQT year at the school in Birmingham, but as soon as the end of the school year approached, Crowley had started spending a lot of time searching for job vacancies for things he thought Aziraphale would be happier doing. He hadn't restricted his search geographically at all, after all, he’d have been willing to move anywhere once he finished his PhD to be with Aziraphale if he’d found a job that made him happy.

Crowley had been shaking with excitement when he’d seen the job advert for an Education Officer at the British Library. He knew Aziraphale would be _perfect_ for it, and it was in _London_ , and so it had been very hard for Crowley to keep his optimism in check and to stop his mind from running away from him with thoughts of them actually living in the same place again, actually getting a place together, and Aziraphale doing something that wouldn’t cause him so much stress.

When Crowley had sent the advert to Aziraphale, on the day it went up online, casually saying, ‘I saw this and thought you might be interested?’, he knew Aziraphale probably suspected the truth, that Crowley had actually been checking the British Library’s job vacancies page on a daily basis for months. Aziraphale had been so nervous on the day of his interview, but Crowley had asked his PhD supervisor for the day off and had gone with him, asking Aziraphale practice questions just like he wanted, and holding his hand right up to the front door. Crowley hadn’t doubted for a moment that Aziraphale would get the job, even accounting for his undeniable bias.

Waking up with Aziraphale every morning in a warm flat with functioning doors (and a functioning oven, functioning shower, and a complete and total absence of fleas _and_ leaks) was like a dream come true. Crowley usually got home first and cooked dinner, and once Aziraphale got home too they would curl up together on the sofa and watch TV while they ate, or sometimes they would sit at their small, circular table and light a candle in the middle of it to make it romantic. Recently, Aziraphale had even bought a _tablecloth_ , which had only happened because it was tartan and when he’d seen it he’d been unable to resist. Crowley suspected that, one day, when they actually bought a house together (nothing wrong with dreaming, right?), all sorts of tartan things would gradually infiltrate over the years until Crowley would one day wake up completely surrounded by them, not quite sure when it had happened. He didn’t mind in the slightest.

As Crowley ate his crepes, Aziraphale snuggled up even closer to him in their bed, an actual _double bed_ , affectionately nuzzling his neck. Crowley stroked his hand up and down Aziraphale’s side and sighed with contentment. Could life really get any better than this?

**21 st October 2009**

Crowley’s eyes shot open and he sucked in a deep breath. “Oh... wow... _angel_...”

“Happy birthday, my love.”

“Fuck... Aziraphale... well this is... ahhhh... a nice way to wake up.”

Aziraphale captured Crowley’s lips in a lingering kiss, and continued what he’d been doing to rouse Crowley from his sleep, palming him through his pyjama bottoms. Aziraphale had never actually woken him up like this before, and there was a fierce intensity to the arousal it elicited in Crowley. It felt like almost all of his blood rushed to his groin, leaving very little left to operate his brain, but just enough to consider the necessary practicalities.

“Aziraphale, what time is it?” he panted, throwing his head back and pressing his cheek into the pillow as Aziraphale began to touch him more insistently. “I have to... be in the lab. You have work.”

“No I don’t...” Aziraphale whispered in his ear, his hot breath sending another surge of arousal cascading through Crowley’s body. “And neither do you. I spoke to Professor Lorenzo, and you have the rest of the week off.”

Crowley reached down and stilled Aziraphale’s hand, holding it in place. He couldn’t be expected to hold a proper conversation with Aziraphale touching him like that. He took a moment to catch his breath and propped himself up slightly on his elbow.

“You spoke to Valeria? How did you even get her number? What’s going on, Aziraphale? Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but why didn’t you tell me? Why do we need the time off?” Crowley asked his questions in quick succession, his brow furrowing with confusion. Aziraphale was predictable and reliable, he enjoyed routines, traditions and little rituals... it wasn’t like him to do something like this. Aziraphale smiled, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself, and began answering Crowley’s questions, planting a lingering kiss to his lips between each one.

“Yes I did, she seems very nice. Her academic staff profile is easy to find on the university’s website. Because I wanted to surprise you. And because I’m taking you on a little trip somewhere. Does that answer all your questions, my dear?” he teased, running his tongue along Crowley’s bottom lip and then kissing him one more time.

“Where are we going?” Crowley asked excitedly, releasing his hold on Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale apparently took this as an invitation to resume his previous movements, and slipped his hand under the waistband of Crowley’s pyjama bottoms to do so. Crowley sucked in a breath and threw his head back on the pillow again, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“I told you, I want to surprise you. Now be good for me and don’t ask any more questions. We don’t have to leave for another hour, so first you can let me get your birthday off to a good start, then I need you to pack a bag. We’ll be away for four nights.”

“ _Four nights_?”

“Naughty... I told you not to ask any more questions, didn’t I?”

“That was _hardly_ a question... fuck, _angel_!” Aziraphale squeezed his hand more tightly around Crowley and began softly kissing his neck, pressing his lips to Crowley’s skin, keeping his kisses tender and gentle, even as the movements of his hand became more vigorous, almost like he didn’t want to leave a mark. Where the hell were they going?

Aziraphale lifted himself up and shuffled down the bed, tugging at Crowley’s waistband insistently until he complied and raised his hips off the bed, allowing Aziraphale to slide his pyjama bottoms down and pull them off him completely. Aziraphale ran his tongue along the length of him, eliciting a moan from Crowley, and then returned to using his hand, pressing kisses to the inside of Crowley’s thighs. Crowley’s hand came down to rest in Aziraphale’s hair, tugging at it gently as Aziraphale’s kisses transformed into gentle bites to his sensitive flesh. Crowley raised his head from the pillow slightly to watch, moaning as Aziraphale redirected his tongue a little higher.

“It’s going to be a good birthday,” Crowley panted. Aziraphale looked up to meet his eyes.

“I’m hoping it might be one of your best,” he winked.

“Tickets please.”

“Here you are,” Aziraphale smiled politely at the train conductor, leaning forwards and thwarting Crowley’s attempts to sneak a peek at the destination on their tickets.

“Perfect, thanks,” the conductor replied.

“Excuse me? Hi, could you tell me where those tickets are for please?”

“I’m terribly sorry, please ignore my boyfriend, he has a habit of asking too many questions.” Aziraphale scowled playfully at Crowley and the conductor chuckled politely before continuing her path through the carriage checking tickets. Aziraphale nudged Crowley in the side.

“Ow! Aww come on, angel, can’t blame me for trying.”

“Do you really want to know? Does not knowing _really_ bother you that much?”

“Ok, just tell me, are we going all the way to Penzance?”

“No.”

“Ok. How long _are_ we going to be on the train? If it’s going to be quite a while, I could go and get us some lunch from the catering thingy,” Crowley tempted, pouting and looking at Aziraphale with wide eyes. His plan was designed to get Aziraphale to admit how long the journey would take, helping him to narrow down the list of possible destinations, and, ideally, to also get him to offer to buy _Crowley_ lunch, since it _was_ his birthday.

“We’ll be on the train long enough that we should eat lunch, yes, Crowley.”

“Right... so how long are we talking? Roughly?”

“Good Lord, Crowley!” Aziraphale tried to restrain a laugh but didn’t quite manage it. “All right, here you go, you can have a look at the tickets.” Crowley gave him a smug grin as Aziraphale reached into his pocket and took his wallet back out, handing Crowley one of the train tickets.

“What the fuck is in St Austell?”

“Oh, did that not help you figure it out? Poor thing,” Aziraphale teased, kissing him on the cheek. He put the ticket back and pulled a twenty pound note out of his wallet, handing it to Crowley. “Here, go and get us some lunch. Get whatever you like, my treat.”

“Yes, ok. Thanks. I’m using all of this by the way,” Crowley joked, waving the money around. “Can’t believe you’re keeping secrets from me.”

“You’re going to love it Crowley, I promise. Just trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be returning to 2009 later, but the next chapter will start with 2010. Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying the fluff! <3


	7. 2010 - 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, this is just a load of fluff. Things aren't great and I need fluff right now! ;-)

**21 st October 2010**

“Happy birthday, love.” Aziraphale placed a cup of coffee and an envelope down in front of Crowley at the kitchen table of the little house they were renting in the countryside, wrapping his hand around Crowley’s nape and bending down to give him a kiss.

“Thanks, angel.”

Crowley took a quick, careful sip of the coffee and then opened the envelope, pulling out a custom-made card that Aziraphale must have ordered from one of those online card-printing services. There was a picture of a man in robes on the front, with the words, ‘To my fiancé on your birthday. Archbishop James Ussher believed the world was created on 21st October’. Crowley opened the card. ‘I think he was right, because you are my world. All my love, Aziraphale xxxxxxx’.

“Holy shit, Aziraphale, that’s so sweet, I love it! Come here...” Aziraphale picked up his tea from the kitchen counter and came to sit beside Crowley, falling into his open arms. Crowley hugged Aziraphale tightly to him, wrapping his arms around his back so that his hands came together, fiddling with his engagement ring.

“Is that true?” Crowley asked, standing the card up on the table and tapping his fingertip against the picture of the man in robes.

“Yes, he lived in the seventeenth century. He used the Bible to try to work out when the world was created.”

“I’ll Google him when I get to work, I never knew I shared my birthday with the _entire world_ ,” Crowley laughed. “This is really great, angel, thank you. I didn’t think you knew how to use those personalised card websites.”

“Well, I had help from Tracy, you know, the lady who runs the flower shop across the way from the bookshop? I wanted it to be special. It’s the only birthday card I’ll ever give to my _fiancé_ , after all.”

“Fucking hell, you’re right! This time next year you’ll be my _husband_. I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Me neither, it’s going to be wonderful.” Aziraphale smiled and ran both of his hands up into Crowley’s hair, tugging at the short strands. Crowley had cut it a couple of months ago, just before he started his post-doc. It was his first proper job, and he’d decided to go for a cut that made him look ‘professional’.

“You ever going to stop playing with my hair?”

“I like it like this. You look _very_ handsome. Besides, I thought you liked it when I play with your hair?” Aziraphale teased, tugging it a little more firmly.

“Let’s find out shall we?”

Crowley pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees in front of Aziraphale beneath the kitchen table, reaching up to unbutton his trousers, and Aziraphale ran his hand through Crowley’s hair.

“You have to leave for work in twenty minutes, love, and you haven’t had breakfast yet. There are also some things I need to sort out before I open up the shop.”

Crowley pouted, shuffling out from under the table and straddling Aziraphale in his chair instead, grinding against him. “If I do some of the things you really like, maybe we won’t need very long,” Crowley drawled into Aziraphale’s ear, gently nipping his earlobe and rocking his hips against him. Aziraphale’s breathing quickened and he grabbed Crowley’s arse, pulling him hard against him.

“You think you’re a master of temptation, don’t you?”

“Feels like I’m succeeding,” Crowley teased with another roll of his hips, flicking his tongue out and tracing a path along Aziraphale’s neck up to the sensitive skin beneath his ear. “Don’t you want to feel my mouth on you while you grab hold of my nice short hair?”

“Obviously!” Aziraphale panted, pulling Crowley hard against him again. “I’d love that.”

“Good, that’s settled then.”

Crowley held Aziraphale tightly as he continued to grind against him for a while before sliding off his lap and back down to the floor, unzipping Aziraphale’s trousers and reaching beneath the waistband of his pants to take him in hand. As soon as Crowley lowered his mouth to him, Aziraphale moaned and threw his head back in the chair.

They both made it to work with plenty of time to spare.

**21 st October 2011**

“Hi angel.”

“Hello, love.” Aziraphale enveloped Crowley in a hug and gave him a quick kiss. “How was work?”

“Good thanks. They got me a cake,” Crowley grinned, and Aziraphale’s eyes lit up.

“What kind of cake?”

“Just a normal birthday cake, sponge cake with cream and jam in the middle and icing on top.”

“Oooh scrummy! Did you bring me a piece home?”

“Oh... no, sorry, angel. I didn’t think.”

“Oh, never mind, that’s quite all right. Dinner’s nearly ready, it’ll be about five minutes.”

“Great, thanks, I’ll just go and get changed.”

Crowley ran upstairs to the bedroom, quickly removing his work clothes and shoving them in the laundry basket and changing into his comfy tracksuit bottoms, a T-shirt and a fleecy jumper. They had decided to spend Crowley’s birthday, the first since they got married, just relaxing together at home.

Crowley quietly slinked back downstairs, unzipping his work bag and retrieving the plastic container he’d been hiding in it, before sneaking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Aziraphale from behind, waving the container in front of him.

“ _Of course_ I brought you cake, angel! As if I’d ever eat cake and not think of you,” he teased, releasing his husband with a kiss to the nape of his neck once he’d taken the container from him. Aziraphale spun around and kissed Crowley enthusiastically on the lips before opening up the box.

“Oh, it’s a big piece! Thank you, Crowley!”

Crowley winked and flopped himself down at the kitchen table.

“So, can I have this present you wouldn’t let me open this morning now?”

“No, you have to wait until after dinner.”

“Aww, ok,” Crowley pouted. “Was the shop busy today?”

“Just nice actually, not too busy, not too quiet, and I was speaking to a lovely gentleman on the telephone. I think I might have sourced another misprinted Bible for my collection!”

“That’s brilliant, angel,” Crowley beamed. He always loved seeing the way Aziraphale lit up when he talked about the bookshop. He’d had it for a little over a year now, and business was going very well. Crowley had visited him at the shop on many occasions, and loved watching Aziraphale work, so relaxed and happy and completely in his element. Crowley had never once doubted that Aziraphale would find a way to make his dreams come true, but it was wonderful to have actually witnessed it happening.

Aziraphale had set the table with their new rectangular tartan tablecloth, and had lit a cluster of candles in the middle. He cast his eyes over it and then clapped his hands together. “Oh, there was one more thing!” Aziraphale disappeared into the utility room and came back out carrying a vase full of red roses. He set them down on the table in front of Crowley. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“Oh wow, thanks angel! They’re gorgeous! From Tracy’s?”

“Of course. I asked her for the very best she had.”

“They’re gorgeous, thank you! One of these days I’m going to get a permanent contract and we can get a mortgage and buy a house with our very own garden that we can do anything we want with, and then I’m going to grow the most beautiful plants you’ve ever seen, they’ll even give Tracy a run for her money!”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Aziraphale smiled, serving up the dinner he’d prepared onto two plates and carrying them over to the table. He slid into his usual chair opposite Crowley and affectionately rubbed his slipper-covered foot up and down Crowley’s leg.

After dinner, Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom so he could finally have his birthday present. Since finding out how terrible Crowley was at handling surprises, Aziraphale had started giving them to him more often and seemed to take great pleasure in doing so. Cheeky adorable bastard.

Crowley looked around the bedroom, and not seeing anything even remotely resembling a present, he grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s jumper and tugged him towards him, kissing along his jaw and then murmuring seductively in his ear. “Are _you_ my present? Do I get to unwrap _you_?”

“No, my dear,” Aziraphale chuckled, sighing contentedly and stroking Crowley’s back. “Not just yet anyway.”

Aziraphale opened the wardrobe and retrieved a box that had been hidden away very well at the bottom. Crowley grinned and took it from him, sitting on the bed and placing the box on his lap, tearing off the paper. Aziraphale took the ripped pieces of paper from him as Crowley generated them, carefully separating the paper from the tape to recycle it.

“Ohhh this looks interesting!”

Crowley spun the box around to read the front. According to the box it was a ‘star projector’. Crowley opened it up and took the machine out of its plastic wrapping, and Aziraphale took hold of the power cable and unravelled it, plugging it in and then setting it down on the bed. Crowley felt around until he found the switch to turn it on while Aziraphale headed over to the door, fingertip poised over the light switch. They locked eyes with each other and flicked the switches simultaneously. The room was plunged into darkness, and the ceiling twinkled with stars.

Crowley let himself fall back to lie on the bed with his legs dangling off the end, looking up at the faint lights that were being projected from the machine beside him.

“This is the southern sky,” he observed.

“I read about it before I ordered it, apparently it can project the night sky as seen in either the northern or southern hemisphere, and you can set it for different times of year as well. Would you like me to put the light back on and we can investigate the settings?”

“No, it’s fine; I know a few of these. This is brilliant, I love it so much! Thank you angel!”

“Now you know why you had to wait. It needed to be dark,” Aziraphale pointed out smugly.

“Yeah, of course it did,” Crowley chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Now get over here, come and lie with me.”

Crowley sat up and pulled his feet up onto the bed, shuffling to the top and laying his head back on the pillow. He held his arm out to the side, and Aziraphale climbed onto the bed and settled in closely beside him. Crowley draped his arm over his husband and ran his hand affectionately up and down his side.

“It was lovely last month when we were lying in the garden stargazing. I know you’ve missed it since it got so cold, so I thought this might be a way we could continue through the winter.”

“It’s a wonderful present; you’re so thoughtful, thank you so much.” Crowley turned his head to the side and Aziraphale did the same, and they shared a sweet, lingering kiss.

“So, you said you recognise some of these?”

“Yeah, only a couple though, obviously never been anywhere in the southern hemisphere, but that’s an easy one,” Crowley said, pointing up at the ceiling, “you see there’s four stars together, they make a sort of cross shape?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Crux, or the Southern Cross, and then go left from there,” Crowley moved his hand as he talked, “and that big bright one is Alpha Centauri. It’s actually a binary pair, two stars really close together orbiting a common centre of gravity.”

“Is that why it looks so bright?”

“It’s so bright because they’re the closest stars to Earth, except for the Sun of course, a little over four light years away I think.”

“I like it when you teach me things.” Aziraphale rolled onto his side and draped his leg over Crowley’s, nuzzling his neck and then kissing him softly. “You know, we’ve never made love beneath the stars before...” Aziraphale whispered against his lips.

“Indeed we have not...” Crowley chuckled softly, his hand finding its way up to Aziraphale’s nape and holding him gently in position while he kissed him, scratching his fingernails lightly over his hairline.

“Would you like to?”

“I think I could be persuaded,” Crowley teased, grinning against Aziraphale’s mouth as they continued to kiss each other. After a while, Aziraphale sat up and straddled Crowley, tugging at the hem of his jumper. Crowley lifted up his torso so Aziraphale could peel it off him, and then pulled his husband down on top of him and captured his mouth in another kiss, while hundreds of little specks of light twinkled above them.

**21 st October 2012**

Leaving Aziraphale tucked up snugly in bed, Crowley headed downstairs to the kitchen and closed the door behind him, setting his phone to play Queen’s Greatest Hits and then placing it down on the kitchen table. As soon as ‘Killer Queen’ started playing Crowley was already singing along quietly, twirling around as he moved about the kitchen gathering supplies to make breakfast. It might have been his birthday, but Aziraphale had had a busy day in the shop yesterday while Crowley had been lounging around at home, so he’d decided it would be a nice surprise to treat him to a home-cooked full English breakfast.

Crowley turned the sausages over in the frying pan with a spatula then held the end of it to his mouth like a microphone, singing along to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ as he broke out some of his more enthusiastic dance moves, dropping to the floor as the sound of tam-tam rang out through the kitchen at the end of the song. Crowley grinned to himself, standing up to find his husband watching him, leaning against the doorframe with a fond smile on his face.

“Good morning. That was an extraordinary rendition.” Aziraphale approached Crowley and enveloped him in a warm hug. He was still wearing his pyjamas, with his snugly dressing gown on top. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

“Thanks, angel.”

They shared a brief kiss and Aziraphale puttered over to the hob, reaching out for the spatula/makeshift microphone, which Crowley handed over to him with a smirk.

“Since it’s your birthday, you can let me take over now. Off you go.” Aziraphale tried swatting him away, but Crowley only stepped back a few paces, leaning against the wall and watching him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thank you. I think I needed it after yesterday.” Aziraphale cracked a couple of eggs in the frying pan and flipped over the bacon with the spatula, placing it down on the kitchen counter. Crowley trained his eyes on it.

“Glad you slept well. You done with that?” he asked, nodding to the spatula.

“Why?”

Crowley cackled deviously and lunged for the spatula before Aziraphale could stop him, just as the chorus of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ started playing, not willing to pass up the perfect opportunity to serenade his husband. Aziraphale smiled fondly as Crowley sang to him, span around a few times and broke out some more of his terrific dance moves. After the chorus, he set down the spatula and pulled Aziraphale into his arms, and they swayed together to the music. Aziraphale wasn’t really one of any kind of dancing that didn’t involve specific steps that he could learn to master, but holding each other close and doing this sort of dancing was something Crowley had persuaded him to indulge in a few times: at their graduation ball, at their wedding, and occasionally, like now, in their house. Aziraphale sighed softly and tucked his head under Crowley’s chin.

“You’re in a very good mood,” Aziraphale smiled when the song finished and Crowley stepped back from him.

“Damn right I am. It’s my birthday, neither of us have to work, and the weather’s perfect. What do you say to a nice autumn walk at the botanic gardens followed by cake in the café?”

“Sounds perfect. Let’s have breakfast and then I’ll get dressed.”

“Ok, but I want more snugly dressing gown hugs first.”

“As you wish.”

Aziraphale opened his arms out wide and Crowley stepped back into them, holding him tightly against him and running his hands up and down the soft material covering Aziraphale’s back, the delicious smell of their breakfast cooking filling the kitchen. Crowley sighed contentedly. This was _definitely_ going to be a good birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be.... you guessed it, more fluff, including lots of reminiscing about their university days. :-)


	8. 2013 - 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets his first permanent contract, and Aziraphale has a surprise planned for his 30th birthday.

**21 st October 2013**

Crowley was sat at his desk, in his very own office, with his name actually on the door, when he picked up his phone to text Aziraphale with a huge grin on his face.

**Crowley: I have good birthday news! HR finally sorted out my contract and sent me a copy. The guys here say 5 weeks is actually pretty good lol**

**Crowley: I sent it to the mortgage advisor and he said that it was enough to use as evidence of my income even though I haven’t been paid yet because it’s a permanent contract, and that with our deposit and your income statements from the shop we could definitely get a mortgage! :-)**

**Crowley: So I’ve been skiving off a bit (having my own office is brilliant) and looking at houses…**

Crowley switched windows to the browser and copied the link to the house listing he’d just been looking at, pasting it into a message to Aziraphale.

**Crowley: Have a look at this one and let me know what you think please!**

**Crowley: If you like it let me know and I’ll phone up the estate agent to arrange a viewing.**

Crowley tried to concentrate on his work. He had a lecture to finish preparing for tomorrow and a draft funding application that needed to be with the research development team by the end of the day, but he couldn’t help but pick up his phone every couple of minutes.

**Crowley: Angel I love this cottage please let me know what you think!**

Crowley sent the message even though he knew Aziraphale would have replied already if he were able to. He was staring blankly at the PowerPoint presentation on his screen, occasionally flicking over to the funding application, doing nothing to either of them, tapping his foot excitedly on the floor. They were going to buy a house! They could actually buy their very own house! Crowley gave up on trying to get any work done just now and loaded the house listing on his computer instead. The cottage was _stunning_. It was so rustic and cosy, and one of the bedrooms would be perfect for Aziraphale to turn into a study/library. It had incredible views, with big picture windows looking out into the surrounding countryside, which would let in plenty of light, so Crowley could finally start that houseplant collection he’d always wanted! So far he only had a small aloe in the kitchen (useful to have on hand for when one of them burnt themselves on the oven) and a snake plant, which he had recently moved onto his desk (in his very own office!). The garden was _amazing_ , with huge sweeping flower beds, a vegetable patch, a greenhouse, a little patio where Crowley could already picture Aziraphale sitting with a cup of tea and a book while he worked in the garden, and a lawn, where they could spread out a blanket and lie back and look up at the stars. Crowley really hoped Aziraphale would be as excited about it as he was.

**Aziraphale: Sorry, there was a bit of a rush of customers then! I’ll look now! Great news about your contract I’m so proud of you! xxxx**

Crowley grinned again and set his phone back down on the desk, hardly able to keep his eyes off it, waiting for Aziraphale to respond. He tapped his palms anxiously against his thighs and grabbed his phone as soon as it lit up.

**Aziraphale: Cottage is beautiful, I love it! Yes please arrange a viewing!**

**21 st October 2014**

Crowley’s phone started vibrating, and he pulled it out of his pocket, giving Aziraphale a quick kiss on the cheek before he swiped across to accept the call. He leaned against the kitchen counter and watched his husband carry on with making breakfast. “Hi Mum.”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thank you! I just opened your present, it all looks great, thanks.”

“Well, now that you’ve got your own little cottage, we thought they’d come in handy.”

“They certainly will, thanks. Aziraphale is very excited; he says he’s going to bake me a birthday cake.”

“Aww, that’s wonderful. Send him my love.”

“Consider your love sent,” Crowley laughed, raising his eyebrows at Aziraphale when he turned around to smile at him. “So, hey, Mum, do you remember when I was eighteen and you said if I still wanted a tattoo by the time I was thirty you’d pay for it?” Crowley gave Aziraphale a thumbs-up, and Aziraphale chuckled softly and turned his attention back to the crepes he was making.

“I should have known you’d remember that.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be £120. You’ve got my bank details, right?”

“Fine, yes, I did promise. What’s it going to be?”

“It’s really sweet actually, you’ll love it. It’s a snake...”

“Oh, _Anthony_...”

“Let me finish! It’s a snake going up my arm, and it’s going to be surrounded by plants that we saw at the Eden Project on the day we got engaged.”

“Yes, all right, that does sound very sweet, I’ll send you the money. Why a snake, dare I ask?”

“Like the serpent of Eden.”

“ _Right_... ok, dear. Well, I’ll let you go. Have a good day.”

“Thanks, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Crowley swiped to end the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket. The crepes were ready, and Aziraphale was now once again enthusiastically investigating the baking paraphernalia Crowley’s parents had bought (which Aziraphale would certainly use more than Crowley would, but Crowley would enjoy eating the results, so it was still a present for _him_ , really). Aziraphale looked up when Crowley ended the call, handing him a plate of crepes, which Crowley accepted with a grateful smile.

“You do actually _want_ this tattoo, don’t you? You’re not just trying to spite your poor mother?” Aziraphale teased.

“You think I’d permanently modify my body just to spite my mother?”

“Possibly, knowing you.”

“Cheeky!” Crowley grabbed the heatproof gloves that were draped over the handle of the oven and whacked Aziraphale on the arse with them. “And there was me thinking you’d find it terribly romantic!”

“I do, it’s going to be lovely. I think you might look quite sexy with a tattoo.”

“Maybe you just think I look sexy whatever I do.”

“I can’t argue with that. You could wear a bin bag and I’ll still find you sexy.” Crowley snorted with laughter and picked up the kettle, taking it over to the sink to fill it to make tea to go with their crepes. “What? Why is that funny?”

“It just made me remember something. I said the same about you to Eric once.”

“Oh? When?”

“Genesis formal. Actually no,” Crowley corrected, waving his finger around in the air. “ _After_ the formal, at that posh bar we went to, what was that place called? Stalks by Night or something. Remember? I spent an entire day’s food budget buying you that ridiculously posh cup of tea.”

“That was the night we met.”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t realise you were attracted to me all the way back then.”

“I’ve told you before I liked you from the beginning.”

“I just didn’t realise you meant from the actual _beginning_.”

“You were wearing a fucking _bowtie_ , angel. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Crowley might have expected a coy smile from Aziraphale in response to that, maybe even a _fond_ smile. He did _not_ expect the devious smirk that spread over his husband’s face.

“What? What does that look mean?”

“I just think it’s funny that you should mention Genesis, my dear.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Oh! My tattoo! Oh, that’s genius!” Crowley grinned before breaking off a large mouthful of crepes with his fork. Aziraphale looked at him quizzically. Apparently that hadn’t been what he’d meant after all.

“Yes he did! That’s true, I remember!” Eric laughed, finishing off his glass of wine and setting it down onto the coaster on top of the little nested table Aziraphale had put next to him.

“God, I’m so jealous; you had a front row seat on the night these two met?” Ligur waved his finger between Crowley and Aziraphale.

“Crowley was insufferable.”

“What else is new?” Hastur joked.

“Oh great, thanks! What is this, let’s all get back together and take the piss out of Crowley for old time’s sake?”

“I don’t believe those were my exact words on the invitations, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled, reaching over to the coffee table for the wine bottle and refilling Eric’s glass.

“Wait, did you send them actual _physical invitations_?”

“Of course I did. Handwritten with the addresses I have written down in my actual physical address book.”

Aziraphale and Crowley smiled fondly at each other, and Crowley didn’t miss the way their old friends glanced at each other in response. Crowley should have _known_ Aziraphale was up to something, after all, it _was_ his thirtieth birthday. He seemed to just be getting better and better at keeping surprises a total secret as the years went on, perhaps to spare Crowley the torture of trying to work out what was going on. It was brilliant to have the old gang back together, even if they did keep taking the piss. Earlier, they’d all had dinner together and shared the cake that Aziraphale had baked earlier in the day (which at the time he had _claimed_ to have made so big so that Crowley could take it to work when he was back in on Thursday, sneaky angel), and had since moved onto the ‘extraordinary amounts of alcohol’ portion of the evening.

“Hey, do you remember the Heaven and Hell party in second year?” Eric grinned as Aziraphale refilled his own glass of wine. “That was the most drunk I’d ever seen you, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, well, Lord knows I needed _something_ to get me through it.”

“I only remember one thing from that night,” Crowley waved his hands in front of himself as if unveiling a piece of fine art to an audience. “A gorgeous angel with a flaming sword. Whatever happened to that, anyway? Did you lose it?”

“I gave it away.”

“You _what_?”

“Please don’t ask. I’m afraid Eric is correct, I _was_ rather drunk. I do remember, however, that you made a very fetching demon.”

“Facebook!” Eric and Ligur announced simultaneously, pulling their phones out of their pockets. Crowley grinned and did the same, and they all started pulling up old photos from their days at university together, starting with the infamous Heaven and Hell party. Crowley smiled fondly down at his phone. They all looked so _young_. Aziraphale was a divine vision in his angelic robes with soft, feathery wings on the back. Crowley vaguely remembered trying to stroke those wings quite a lot, and could only hope he’d managed to be discreet about it. This was, after all, before they got together.

They all continued scrolling through pictures, stopping occasionally to show each other and to reminisce over something that had happened, much of which involved even more good-humoured taking the piss out of Crowley. Crowley rolled his eyes and scowled at them, but inside he was felt an unusual warmth, a feeling of nostalgia and camaraderie that he had never really known before, something he realised it might not have been possible to feel when he was younger.

“Fucking hell, Crowley, you look miserable as sin here, when was this?” Ligur held up his phone, and Eric and Crowley exchanged a glance.

“My twenty-first at Brimstone.” Crowley instinctively took Aziraphale’s hand and interlaced their fingers.

“Oh dear, you do look unhappy.”

“I was worried about you, angel. My day got a lot better though, didn’t it?” Crowley smiled, nudging Aziraphale gently and then shuffling down on the sofa so he could rest his head on his shoulder for a moment. “Speaking of my twenty-first… Ligur, didn’t you say that would be the last time we were all together for my birthday? So _cynical_! And so wrong!”

“I actually invited everyone here just to prove Ligur wrong,” Aziraphale joked.

“Well played, angel. Oh, look! Graduation Ball!” Crowley grinned, looking at the first photos that actually had Aziraphale _tagged_ in them. By the summer of 2006, they had _finally_ persuaded him to set up an account. Crowley furrowed his brow and turned his phone around to show all the others. “What the fuck was I doing here?”

“I believe you were serenading me with that James Blunt song.”

“ _James Blunt_? As if!” Crowley scowled playfully at Aziraphale.

“No, it definitely was,” Eric interjected, smirking at Hastur and Ligur and raising his eyebrows. The three of them grinned at each other, and it was like being transported nine years back in time, and Crowley knew exactly what was coming. Eric counted them in, “Three, two, one...”

“ _My life is brilliant, my love is pure, I saw an angel, of that I'm sure_ ,” the three of them sang (badly) in unison. Aziraphale giggled and took another sip of wine.

“Fuck off!”

“I can’t believe you stayed with him after that.”

“Oh, lovely, _thanks_ Hastur.”

“I actually thought it was rather sweet,” Aziraphale said kindly, wriggling his arm in between Crowley and the sofa cushion and resting his hand on his hip.

“ _Thank you_. Why don’t we see what else is on here, eh? Oh yes, remember this guy? The guy Ligur spent half an hour talking to at The Dirty Donkey because he thought he was Eric?”

“In my defence, I was _very_ drunk and look at the guy! They could be twins!”

“Your face when Eric walked up to you though,” Crowley snorted, and the whole group, including Ligur, burst out laughing. “Oh, and look, who do we have here? Could it be _Hastur_ , covered in maggots at the I’m A Celeb party?”

“Laugh all you want, but if you recall, I single-handedly got ten stars and won us a load of free drinks. It was one of the proudest moments of my life.”

“ _Was_ or still is?”

“It’s definitely up there,” Hastur mused, scrolling through his own phone. “Oh, look at this one!” He turned the screen around to show Eric and Ligur, who immediately started cackling. Crowley glared at him until he relented and passed his phone over to Crowley, via Aziraphale.

“Oh no no no no no!”

“It’s ‘Disco Crowley’!” Eric grinned.

“Holy shit, look at my _hair_!” Crowley squinted and leaned in closer to look at the photo from the 1970s night they’d gone to, in which he was striking a slightly embarrassing disco pose. Aziraphale laughed softly and started tenderly rubbing small circles over the small of Crowley’s back. “I need more wine for this,” Crowley grumbled, reaching out to the table and picking up the now empty bottle. “Do we have more wine, angel?”

“No, I’m afraid that was the last of it. Oh dear, whatever are the neighbours going to think of us when we put out the recycling?”

“Could always hide some of the bottles in their bin?”

“Crowley! You can’t do that!”

“I’m joking, angel. Let’s just hide them in pantry for a couple of months and stagger it so the neighbours just think we’re _consistent_ drinkers and not just occasional binge drinkers. That’s better, right?”

“Yes, good idea.”

“I actually brought something for the occasion, to celebrate Crowley becoming an old man,” Eric teased. “ _Thirty_ , mate. Maybe you should just go to bed and let all of us twenty-somethings continue the party on our own.” Eric leant over the armrest of the sofa and pulled a bottle of champagne out of his overnight bag, handing it to Crowley, who scrunched his nose up at him. Aziraphale seized the bottle from Crowley immediately.

“Oh, lovely! I’ll go and open this up, shall I?” Aziraphale got up and headed for the kitchen.

“Thanks Eric.”

“Thank the EU’s renewable energy directive,” Eric winked. “Business is _good_.”

“Look at this one!” Hastur cackled, still scrolling through old pictures on his phone. He turned the screen around, and Crowley grimaced as he looked at the photo of himself, Hastur and Ligur, which presumably Eric had taken but Crowley had no memory of it. The three of them were posing with a lamppost, which Crowley had wrapped his legs around in order to lean back and strike a pose. “ _Very_ sexy, Crowley.”

Crowley gave Hastur the finger with both hands and then brought his hands up to cover his face. “Fuck, I feel like I’ve regressed.”

“Well, don’t let us stop you dancing around the place singing terrible songs at the top of your lungs if you want to. It is _your_ house,” Eric teased. In Crowley’s mind that statement was one of two things, either a _challenge_ or an _invitation_. Either way, there was only one thing for it.

“Well, if you insist…” Crowley loaded up a playlist of songs from 2005 and set his phone down on the coffee table, and they all cheered and started clapping when the JCB song came on. The four of them leapt up and formed a circle with their arms wrapped around each other, swaying as they sang along to the first part of the song. By the time the tempo picked up, Crowley was jumping up and down and belting out the lyrics.

“ _I’m Luke, I'm 5 and my dad's Bruce Lee! Drives me around in his JCB!_ ”

“Good Lord, I was only gone for a few minutes!” Aziraphale announced as he stepped back into the room, setting a tray down on the coffee table with the champagne Eric had brought, along with the proper fancy champagne flutes they’d been given as a wedding present. Crowley grinned and grabbed hold of him, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him tightly.

“I love you so much,” Crowley whispered into his ear, pulling back to see Aziraphale absolutely beaming at him and then leaning in for a kiss.

“Get a room!” Hastur laughed.

“We have! We have loads of rooms! All these rooms are ours!” Crowley released Aziraphale to wave his arms around himself. “Well, they will be in another nineteen years when we’ve paid off the mortgage.”

Aziraphale locked eyes with Crowley and stroked his hand down his arm, and the intensity with which he looked at him was still enough, after all these years, to make Crowley shiver. Aziraphale got to work pouring champagne into glasses. Crowley spotted him tapping the screen of his phone when the JCB song ended, and wrapped his arm around his shoulder and leaned down to see what he was doing. Apparently he had skipped the next song: You’re Beautiful by James Blunt. God bless him, he really was an angel.

“Thank you,” Crowley whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

“Maybe you can sing to me later,” Aziraphale whispered back before the room was filled, instead, with the _unmistakeable_ intro to Axel F’s Crazy Frog. Eric and Ligur immediately shoved Hastur into the middle of the room, and the other four formed a circle around him and cheered along while he performed the dance he had been famous for in their third year. It was flawless, like no time had passed at all. Crowley burst out laughing, and held tightly onto his husband to keep himself from falling over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have been singing along to the JCB song as I wrote this


	9. 2015 - 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has concerns about his new PhD student. Aziraphale tries to make sure Crowley has a good birthday even when he's away at a conference.

**21 st October 2015**

Crowley leaned against the kitchen counter, cradling the cup of coffee Aziraphale had just given him in his hands, enjoying the warmth. He set it down to pull his phone out of his pocket, checking his calendar for the day and then letting out a heavy sigh.

“Everything all right, my dear?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just... you know my new PhD student?”

“Newton?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a meeting with him today.”

“Are things not going well?”

“ _Well_... don’t laugh, ok?” Crowley asked seriously, waiting for Aziraphale to give some indication of agreement before he continued. “I think he might be cursed.”

Aziraphale set his tea cup down on its saucer on the kitchen table and looked up at him.

“Do go on,” he encouraged, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“So you know we’ve been doing all these practical tests in the wave simulator and out in the field? Newt’s supposed to be working on designing a computer-based tool so that we can simulate the effects of introducing different plants in different settings on reducing wave impact and coastal erosion just by plugging in different parameters, using the experimental data we’ve collected.”

“Yes, I remember you saying.” Crowley had never stopped appreciating the effort Aziraphale made to listen and understand when he was talking about his work, even though Crowley knew it fell far outside Aziraphale’s areas of interest. Crowley had said as much to Aziraphale on several occasions, apologising for rambling on about his lab’s latest results, and Aziraphale had once said, ‘ _you_ are my area of greatest interest, Crowley’. “But you think he’s... cursed?” Aziraphale teased with a twinkle in his eye.

Crowley wanted to remind Aziraphale that he had told him not to laugh, but Aziraphale would just point out that he wasn’t _actually_ laughing. Cheeky bastard.

“I told you how on his first day he got locked in the office, right? The SALTO lock failed and sealed him in somehow and then the card reader blew up? Well, a couple of weeks ago the computer I’d set him up on in the office crashed completely, so I ordered another one from IT, and in the meantime I said he could use the lab’s laptop, then ten minutes later I hear this sheepish little knock on my office door, ‘erm... Dr Crowley... there’s... the office... well, you see... it smells like burning silicon’,” Crowley recalled, mimicking Newt. Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and Crowley’s chest bloomed with pride the same way it did every time he made his husband laugh, even if he’d told him not to.

“Oh dear...” Aziraphale smiled.

“Trust me, that’s not even half of it. We’ve still got two months until we need to do his confirmation of candidature, I’ve tried steering him towards doing a more practical-based project instead so I can just recruit someone else to do the computer-based work next year, ‘but Dr Crowley, I _want_ to work with computers’,” Crowley ran his hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. Aziraphale stood from the table and came over to join him, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s middle and leaning his head against his chest.

“I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job setting his mind at ease today. After all, I imagine he’s feeling very anxious about the whole thing.”

“Anxious about being cursed, you mean?” Crowley joked, but he knew Aziraphale could see right through him. Aziraphale knew how much Crowley cared about his students, the way he took on their problems as if they were his own.

“Well, perhaps we should introduce him to Anathema,” Aziraphale suggested.

Crowley had met Anathema several times when he’d visited Aziraphale at work on a Saturday, although they had never really shared anything beyond simple pleasantries. She had opened up an occult shop next to Aziraphale’s bookshop a few months ago. “She’s an ‘occultist’, and fancies herself something of a witch. I’m sure she’d be able to tell if the young man is cursed.”

“Good idea,” Crowley replied as if Aziraphale was actually being serious. “She’ll agree with me, you know.”

“I suppose we’ll see.”

“Right,” Crowley said, downing the rest of his coffee. “I’d better go.”

“Have a good day, my love. I hope your meeting with Newton goes well. Perhaps prop the door open to make sure you don’t get locked in with him?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Crowley laughed, kissing Aziraphale softly on the cheek.

“Have you told them it’s your birthday?”

“No, but it must be on some secret calendar somewhere because someone always remembers.”

“Save me a piece of cake if there is one, won’t you?”

“As if I wouldn’t,” Crowley grinned, this time capturing Aziraphale’s lips in a lingering kiss. “Love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

**21 st October 2016**

“Happy birthday!”

“Thanks.”

“Are you back in your room now?”

“Yeah,” Crowley sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest of the bed in his hotel room. “I miss you. Wish I’d come home tonight now.”

“We checked, the trains didn’t run late enough, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, but I could have brought the Bentley.”

“It would have been an eight hour drive, Crowley! You know I wouldn’t be happy with you driving that far while you’re tired. I’d be so worried.”

Crowley’s new car was his absolute pride and joy, and as fun as it might have been to drive it all the way to Scotland with Queen’s Greatest Hits playing on repeat for him to sing along as loudly as he wanted, Aziraphale was right, it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. Besides, Crowley didn’t want to put that many miles on the car with just one trip, and they were encouraged to use public transport for work trips wherever possible anyway.

“I know, angel. Just wanted to see you on my birthday.”

“Technically it wouldn’t have been your birthday by the time you’d actually got home.”

“Good point,” Crowley conceded with a sigh.

“How was the conference?”

“Yeah... not bad I suppose. Pretty good, mostly. My head’s spinning to be honest. It’s been useful though.”

“You sound very tired.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want me to go and let you get some rest? Oh, have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I nabbed an apple from the buffet at lunch, might just eat that.”

“Crowley, it’s your _birthday_! What’s your room number?”

“Why?” Crowley challenged suspiciously.

“You _know_ why, I’m going to order you room service. What else could I possibly do with that information? You’re staying at the Scotsman, right?”

“Yes, but it’s ok, angel, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, let me treat you for your birthday.”

Crowley closed his eyes, a grin spreading over his face.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now, are you going to give me your room number or am I just going to have to ask them to deliver the food to the most handsome _Senior_ Lecturer they’ve got staying there?”

Crowley’s grin spread even wider, his cheeks actually starting to ache. He wondered when Aziraphale would stop taking every opportunity he possibly could to mention Crowley’s promotion. Each time, Crowley could feel how proud he was, and his heart swelled. It made going through the university’s unnecessarily complicated academic promotions process worth it.

“Fine, room 3.”

“Room 3, excellent. Have fun, my love, I’ll speak to you later.”

“Thanks angel, I really appreciate it. Miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.”

When the food arrived, it seemed that Aziraphale hadn’t adjusted the quantity to account for the fact that he wasn’t going to be there too to ‘sample’ a little of everything Crowley would be eating. Crowley ate as much as he could, not wanting to waste it, then made himself a coffee with the little kettle in the room (and slipped the complimentary packet of biscuits and hot chocolate sachet into his bag to take home for Aziraphale). He climbed back up onto the bed, taking a careful sip of his boiling hot coffee and then setting it on the small bedside table. He’d turned off all of the lights except for the lamp beside him, and lay back on the bed, feeling pleasantly full, and tried to relax and switch off, his head still buzzing with all the new information he’d received at the conference and all the ideas he wanted to pursue when he got back to work.

Crowley reached over, careful not to knock his mug of coffee, and picked up his phone to call Aziraphale. His husband answered immediately.

“Hello!”

“Hey.”

Crowley could make out the sound of a book being closed and set down, and pictured Aziraphale in his favourite armchair, maybe even with a fire blazing in the wood burning stove, since the temperature had dropped quite considerably over the past few days. Given the cold night, Crowley wondered whether Aziraphale might even be snuggled up reading in bed, with a cup of hot cocoa to keep him warm.

“How was your dinner?”

“Brilliant. Big. Wish you’d been here to share it with me. It was really great, thank you so much, angel.”

“You deserve to have a lovely meal on your birthday! I’ll spoil you properly when you get home, starting as soon as I meet you at the station. I have a nice big devil’s food cake waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Crowley rolled his shoulders and shuffled down further onto the bed, keeping the phone pressed to his ear. “Mmm sounds great, I can’t wait.”

“Oh dear, you do sound terribly tired.”

“Yeah, but don’t go. Want to talk to you.”

“Would you like me to say nice things to you to help you relax? I’m sure you’re struggling to switch off after all your hard work today.”

“What kind of nice things?” Crowley teased, biting his bottom lip.

“The kind of nice things that will distract you from work and might encourage you to partake in activities that render you more liable to fall asleep quickly.”

“I have _never_ in my life heard a more alluring description of phone sex.”

“Crowley!”

“I’m teasing, angel. What do you want me to do?”

“Is the room warm?”

“Yeah, I’ve had the heater on.”

“Then undress completely for me, please.”

“Ok... hang on, let me put you on speakerphone for a minute. Don’t say anything naughty, one of my colleagues might walk past the door. My room’s right near reception.”

“Perish the thought. You’d better hurry up then.”

“You bastard, ok, ok, hang on.”

Crowley had already taken off his jacket and tie earlier, and now pulled his shirt over his head after undoing only the top few buttons, throwing it onto the floor, before getting to work on his belt and trousers.

“Are you naked yet?”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley grabbed his phone and took if off speakerphone, pressing it to his ear. “Ok, you’re _now_ no longer on speakerphone! And yes I am. How about you? Are you in bed?”

“Yes I am, I’ve just been doing some reading. It’s cold in here without you, though.”

“You’ll have to warm yourself up, then.”

“I suppose I could do that.”

“Go on then. You also mentioned saying some nice things to me?”

“Indeed I did. I miss you so much. I was thinking about you last night after we spoke. I’m so proud of you, doing a talk at a big conference.”

“I do talks all the time, angel.”

“I know, and I’m always proud. I’d be far too nervous standing in front of all those people. I wish I could come and watch you sometime. I bet you look very sexy standing up on a stage with all the spotlights on you.”

“It’s an academic conference, Aziraphale, not a theatre production,” Crowley laughed.

“Yes, well. I still imagine you looked very sexy. Were you wearing your suit?”

“I was.”

“Mmm... _nice_ ,” Aziraphale whispered, and Crowley felt his arousal start to build.

“So if you were here, and you watched me do my talk about seagrass restoration wearing my fancy suit, what would you do with me afterwards?”

“Drag you back to your hotel room and tear it off you, of course. What’s the bathroom like?”

“Nyeeehh… it’s pretty good.”

“Room for two in the shower?”

“Maybe, just about.”

“ _Perfect_.” Crowley grinned and let his hand drift down his chest and over his stomach, taking himself in hand. “If it’s not very big, I’d have to stay very close to you, wouldn’t I? I think I’d press you up against the wall, hold you there while I kissed you all over.”

“Carry on,” Crowley urged, slightly breathless already.

“I think I should like to use my mouth on you for a while. Would you like that? If I dropped to my knees in front of you?”

Crowley hissed through gritted teeth, biting back an expletive as he heard the muffled voices of people walking past his hotel room door. “Yes...”

“I would put my hands on your hips and hold you back against the wall, run my tongue over you, I know you like that. I wish I was there so I could touch you, my love. How about if I turned you around so your chest was against the wall, and pressed myself up behind you so I could reach around and touch you? Would you like to think about that?”

“I’m thinking about it right now.”

“You’re imagining it’s me touching you?”

“Yes, angel,” Crowley hissed, quickening the movement of his hand. He hadn’t been expecting _this_ tonight. His heart was racing and the sound of Aziraphale’s low, rumbling voice in his ear was sending waves of arousal cascading through his body.

“Perhaps you _should_ take a shower before you go to sleep. You could get yourself into that position and pretend I’m there with you.”

“Is that what you want?”

“That’s up to you, I’m going to be lying here touching myself and thinking about it, either way,” Aziraphale teased.

“Ok. Ok, yes, I want to do that.”

“Off you go then, love. I want your chest pressed up hard against the wall, I want you to imagine I’m pinning you in place, will you do that for me?”

“Nhhh… yeah, I will,” Crowley panted.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow at the station.”

“Yeah… ok… goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Crowley.”

Crowley could actually _hear_ the self-satisfied smile on Aziraphale’s face as he hung up the phone, and he rolled off the bed and shuffled into the bathroom.

When Crowley climbed back into bed after his _very_ enjoyable shower, he felt warm and sleepy and his brain was entirely clear of thoughts of work. He sighed contentedly, snuggling into the sheets. He reached over to the bedside table for his phone and saw that Aziraphale had sent him a message.

**Aziraphale: Those were some very nice thoughts! I hope I can tempt you into the real thing tomorrow... Happy birthday my love! xxxx**

**Crowley: That was incredible, very much looking forward to the real thing at home where I won’t have to try so hard to be quiet! I’m so glad we live in the middle of nowhere! ;-) Love you so much! Sweet dreams angel! xxxx**

**21 st October 2017**

Aziraphale finished his tea and reached over the kitchen table to take Crowley’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside of his wrist.

“You know, I could keep the shop closed today, spend the day with you? It feels wrong you being here all alone on your birthday.”

“No, it’s ok, angel, Saturday’s your busiest day. We can celebrate properly when you get home tonight. I was actually thinking I’d walk down into the village, come and hang out with you in the shop for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“That would be lovely. As long as you promise not to distract me,” Aziraphale teased, stroking his thumb over the back of Crowley’s hand.

“I can’t help it if I’m inherently distracting. You knew what you were getting into when you married me.”

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Why don’t I walk down into the village with you, stay for a while until it gets busy?”

Aziraphale kept hold of Crowley’s hand as he stood up from the table, pulling him up with him and into a hug. “That’s an excellent idea. I’ll go and get our coats.”

Crowley took his coat from Aziraphale and shrugged it on, while Aziraphale proceeded to wrap up warmer than was really necessary with his matching hat, scarf and gloves. Crowley always loved the way a few of his blond curls stuck out beneath his hat, making him look completely adorable.

They stepped out of the cottage and Crowley locked up behind them before taking Aziraphale’s gloved hand in his as they walked down into the village. It was a beautiful morning, cold and crisp but bright, the low autumn morning sunshine bathing the countryside in a soft glow that enhanced the reds and golds of the leaves that remained on the trees.

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand more tightly and smiled. He couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was, married to not just _any_ angel but the most perfect angel that ever existed, living in their perfect cottage with their wonderful garden that Crowley had spent almost every free moment working on or relaxing in during the summer. They were both doing work that meant something to them and that they actually _enjoyed_. Crowley breathed in the cool, fresh autumn air and sighed contentedly as they approached the quaint, narrow street full of shops, Aziraphale’s bookshop nestled amongst them.

“Angel…”

“What is it, dear?” Aziraphale asked, leaning against him as they walked up to the front door of the shop.

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m really happy. You make me really happy.”

“Oh… thank you, Crowley.” Aziraphale touched his free hand to his chest and smiled fondly at him. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Aziraphale released Crowley's hand to draw his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door of the bookshop and pushing it open. The bell above the door jangled in response, and Crowley took a deep breath, enjoying the slightly woody scent of the old books that always made him think of Aziraphale. Aziraphale fisted his hands in the lapels of Crowley’s coat and pulled him close, and they shared a lingering, tender kiss, full of adoration and contentment.

“I love you so much,” Aziraphale whispered against his mouth.

“I love you too. Since I’m here, can I help you with anything?”

“Well, if you’re offering…” Aziraphale widened his eyes and left Crowley wondering what he might have got himself into. Just then, the bell above the door rang again, and Crowley turned to see Anathema standing there with a huge grin on her face.

“Crowley, I knew you would be here today! Look! Newt proposed to me! We’re getting married!” she beamed, holding out her hand towards Crowley to show off her impressive and very sparkly engagement ring.

Crowley briefly considered how Newt must have been living, and for how long he must have been saving, to afford a rock like that on an RCUK stipend. “You were definitely right, you know! Newt _was_ cursed. I think he was cursed by my ancestor, Agnes. She was a powerful witch, and I think she cursed him so that you would introduce him to me.”

Crowley had to admit, ever since he had introduced Newt to Anathema, all of his bad luck with computers seemed to have dissipated. His project was going extremely well, and he’d even submitted his first paper for publication a few weeks ago.

“Happy to be of service,” Crowley grinned despite himself, looking up and saluting the ghost of Agnes. "Congratulations, Anathema."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of fluff to go, which will include revisiting 2005 and 2009. Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! :-)


	10. 2018 - 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More domestic softness up to the present day, and we go back in time to 2005 and 2009.

**21 st October 2018**

“Crowley...”

“Mmmmrrrhhhhmm,” Crowley responded eloquently into his pillow.

“Crowley, wake up, love.”

Crowley sighed with contentment as he felt Aziraphale’s warm lips on his neck, gradually gaining a little more awareness. He could hear the birds singing outside in the trees around the garden, and felt cocooned in softness and warmth, enhanced by the feel of Aziraphale pressed up behind him.

“Happy birthday, Crowley.”

“Mmm thanks.”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“It’s your birthday and neither of us has to work.”

“Then why do I need to wake up?” Crowley grumbled playfully, smushing his face into the pillow.

“Because I have plans for you.”

“Do these plans require me to move?”

“I suppose not all of them do. Not if you don’t want to. You look incredibly tempting all snuggled up like that, you know.”

Crowley floated serenely in that almost ethereal space between sleep and wakefulness as Aziraphale gently nudged him over a little more onto his stomach, slipped his hands beneath Crowley’s pyjama top and began massaging his back. Crowley moaned softly and pressed his face harder into the pillow as Aziraphale resumed kissing his neck.

“Mmm… you feel wonderful,” Aziraphale praised, hooking his leg over Crowley’s body and gradually shifting his weight until he was straddling him and pressing him down onto the bed, grinding his hips against him.

“Ok, I’m awake!” Crowley squirmed beneath him, half-heartedly trying to roll over.

“I thought you didn’t want to move just yet?” Aziraphale teased.

“You make an excellent point,” Crowley conceded, relaxing all of his muscles and sinking into the bed, just letting Aziraphale take care of him.

Around an hour later, Aziraphale disentangled himself from Crowley and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of his head. “So, what are you in the mood for now?”

“Do you know what I really want? I want to go to the garden centre and buy millions of bulbs because it’s my birthday and you can’t stop me.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “And where are you going to plant all these millions of bulbs?”

“Well, I’ll start with the pot that had my daffodils in that you got rid of because you thought it was empty...”

“I was trying to help...”

“...and then I don’t know, I’ll find somewhere. There’s _always_ room for more plants.”

“Apparently so,” Aziraphale smiled, brushing another kiss against Crowley’s lips. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, and since it’s your birthday, I do think we should probably stop in the café for one of those giant scrumptious cakes that they serve.”

“That sounds perfect, angel.”

**21 st October 2019**

“This is so exciting! Are you excited? You should be excited!” Crowley was practically bouncing as he took Aziraphale’s hand and led him to the corner of the garden housing his dream come true: his very own fully climate-controllable heated greenhouse, which he had acquired in the spring and turned into his very own tropical paradise.

“I am very excited, Crowley, yes,” Aziraphale smiled indulgently. “I’m also intrigued. What did you want to show me?”

Crowley slid open the door and gestured for Aziraphale to go ahead of him before following him inside and closing the door to reduce the amount of cool air entering behind them. They passed Crowley’s cacao plants, his wild bananas and coffee, and came to the source of his excitement. He’d been wanting to tell Aziraphale for ages, but he thought it would be fun to wait until his birthday.

“Look!” Crowley beamed, pointing at the plant. “Do you recognise it?”

Aziraphale bent down to inspect the plant, and then turned around to face Crowley, a knowing smile on his face.

“They look like vanilla pods.”

“Yep! And a few of them are ripe, and you said you were going to bake me a cake today, and I thought you could use actual _home-grown_ vanilla in it! Not many people can say that in the UK!”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. You’ve done a remarkable job in here, Crowley.” Aziraphale was smiling at him, that smile he always had on his face whenever he was happy because _Crowley_ was happy. Crowley gave him a quick kiss and then harvested a few of the ripe vanilla pods and handed them to Aziraphale.

“Thanks for letting me completely take over the garden.”

“You know I don’t mind! It all looks absolutely wonderful. As long as I have somewhere to sit with you and read, I’m happy.”

“Love you, angel.” Crowley wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and they headed back into the house. Crowley cast a discreet glance over to a vacant corner of the lawn. What Aziraphale _didn’t_ know was that when the electrician had laid the cable for Crowley’s heated greenhouse, he’d run it right underneath that patch, where on _Aziraphale’s_ birthday, construction would begin on a cosy little outbuilding, with its very own electricity supply and wood burning stove, and patio doors opening up onto the garden. Crowley could visualise the furnishings already: the world’s comfiest reading chair and footstool covered with a snugly tartan blanket, an old gramophone and a collection of classical records, a bookshelf, with a kettle perched on top to make tea without having to go back into the house… the perfect little reading nook. Aziraphale was going to _love_ it.

**21 st October 2020**

Crowley blew out a long breath and closed the lid of his laptop, getting up out of his desk chair in what was now his home office, set up in Aziraphale’s study/library, which he had sacrificed to give Crowley somewhere suitable to work from home. Crowley puttered around the cottage, searching for his husband, but found only evidence of his earlier presence in the form of an angel food cake in the kitchen, and quickly realised that he must be in the reading nook in the garden.

He pushed his feet into his slippers, jogging up the garden to avoid as much of the drizzle as possible, and knocked on the patio doors before opening them.

“Hey, angel.”

Aziraphale set his book down beside him and smiled, the kind of smile that was forced for Crowley’s benefit, nowhere near reaching his eyes. “Hello, dear. How was your lecture?”

“Like getting blood out of a stone. First years. Can’t really blame them not feeling comfortable speaking up on Zoom though, they only started a few weeks ago.”

“Hmm. I’m sorry. Have you finished for the day now?”

“Yeah, all done. You feeling any better?”

Aziraphale sighed heavily. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Crowley perched himself on the edge of Aziraphale’s reading chair, draping his legs over Aziraphale’s lap and snaking an arm around the back of his neck. He tilted his head and rested it against Aziraphale’s. “I know it’s hard. Is there anything else I can do?”

“You shouldn’t be looking after _me_ , it’s your birthday.”

“Doesn’t really feel like my birthday.”

“That’s exactly the point.”

“I know, angel, I know.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. “You’re doing really well, I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m not.”

“You _are_. It won’t be like this forever. It’s ok.” Crowley rubbed Aziraphale’s shoulder and pressed a series of kisses to his temple. Aziraphale had had his ups and downs since he’d closed the bookshop in March, but something about it being Crowley’s birthday today seemed to have made him feel even worse. Aziraphale had always been a hard worker, and although, with the help of _Newt_ of all people, he now had a website to sell online, he’d struggled to adapt to the new way of life imposed by the pandemic. There had been times throughout the year when Aziraphale would have been permitted to open the shop, but he didn’t feel comfortable with it, and the rules kept changing so frequently that it hardly seemed worth the trouble.

“I love you so much, Crowley.”

“I love you too. I promise it’ll be ok. Hey, do you know what I realised today? I’ve known you for basically half of my life. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

“I think we’re both lucky.” Crowley shuffled down, bringing himself to the same level as Aziraphale on the chair and stroking his thumb across his husband's cheek. “May I kiss you?”

Aziraphale smiled, and this time it was genuine, a slight twinkle in his eye. “You used to say ‘can I?’.”

Crowley laughed, primarily as a result of the relief he felt that Aziraphale wasn’t so down as to pass up an opportunity to tease him.

“Been living with you too long. Either that or I used to say ‘can I’ just to wind you up,” Crowley smirked, thrilled to see Aziraphale was still smiling, and had now rested his palm on Crowley’s knee. “So, can I kiss you or not?”

“You’re very capable…” Aziraphale teased, and Crowley growled in his ear. “And yes, please kiss me.”

Crowley gently cupped Aziraphale’s face and tilted his chin up, closing the distance between them and capturing his mouth in a loving kiss, which became more insistent as Aziraphale responded to him, pulling him closer so forcefully that Crowley lost his balance on the armrest and slipped into Aziraphale’s lap. They stayed like that for a long time, holding and kissing each other, listening to the birds singing outside and the fire crackling in the wood burner. Eventually, Crowley pulled back and leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s.

“I love you so much, Aziraphale. You know, just because we can’t _go_ anywhere for my birthday, that doesn’t mean we can’t _do_ anything.”

Aziraphale ran his hand through Crowley’s hair and smiled. “You’re right. What would you like to do?”

“I saw a pretty tasty looking cake in the kitchen. Thank you,” Crowley kissed his husband on the cheek. “How about after dinner we bring the cake out here? We can make a little nest of blankets on the floor and have a picnic? If we turn the air down on the fire so it’s not too bright we could even put the star projector on.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Crowley grinned, pressing another kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. “Doesn’t matter that the world is fucked, angel. I have all the world I want right here.”

**Fifteen years ago, 22 nd October 2005**

Crowley woke up feeling warm and peaceful, tugging the duvet up under his chin and snuggling into it. He drifted for a moment in that tranquil space between sleeping and waking, then wriggled his foot, which collided with something warm and soft that _wasn’t_ the duvet. Aziraphale. Crowley trailed his foot along Aziraphale’s leg, smiling as the memories of last night came back to him. He stilled his movements to quieten the rustling of the duvet, listening to Aziraphale’s deep, rhythmic breaths. He was still asleep, lying on his side facing away from Crowley.

Crowley’s stomach lurched suddenly. What if Aziraphale woke up and regretted what they’d done? They’d taken things much further than Crowley had expected, and he searched through his memories, trying to reassure himself that Aziraphale had taken the lead with everything they’d done. Even so, Crowley knew that didn’t mean Aziraphale would feel comfortable with the idea of ‘stopping thinking’ in the cold light of day. Speaking of which, what time was it? Crowley knew he hadn’t set an alarm, he’d had no intentions of going anywhere the day after his twenty-first birthday.

Crowley reached over to his bedside table and fumbled around until his hand landed on his phone. He held down the buttons to unlock it, relieved to see 08:04 displayed in the top corner. Aziraphale would still have time to get to lectures. Crowley had only known Aziraphale to miss one day of lectures in second year, when he had been too ill to even get out of bed. Crowley had walked down to the cornershop and bought a tin of chicken soup and heated it up in the microwave for him, because that’s what you do when someone isn’t well, right? It was the first experience he’d ever had of really taking care of someone, and he’d discovered that all he ever wanted to do was take care of Aziraphale.

Not wanting him to miss lectures provided a good excuse for Crowley to wake Aziraphale. As much as he was enjoying lying here beside him, pressed together in his tiny bed, he couldn’t bear the anxiety any more of not knowing how Aziraphale would react when he realised where he was when he woke up. This would be, presumably, the first time Aziraphale woke up in a bed other than his own.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered. He so badly wanted to wake him by kissing the nape of his neck, but decided he’d better not. “Aziraphale, wake up.”

Aziraphale’s breathing pattern shifted and he stirred, wriggling around and pulling the duvet over to his side, exposing Crowley’s back to the cold air of his room and making him shiver. The house was almost always cold, although at least in this house they didn’t have to think about the fact they couldn’t afford to run the central heating very much, given that it barely worked anyway, making it irrelevant. Aziraphale stilled suddenly, and Crowley’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Crowley...”

Aziraphale’s voice was filled with so much joy and affection that it immediately put Crowley’s mind at rest. Aziraphale rolled over, which was a little awkward given the size of the bed, and gave Crowley a beaming smile, his eyes bright and... _happy_. He seemed to notice that he had pulled the duvet away, and tucked it back over Crowley, who thought he might melt from the tenderness of it.

“Hey,” Crowley beamed back at him, and Aziraphale shuffled his head across the pillow and kissed him. “Do you have lectures today? It’s after eight.”

“Crowley, it’s Saturday.”

“Oh fuck, sorry!” Crowley hissed, feeling like a complete idiot. “Go back to sleep if you want. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s all right; I don’t mind you waking me up. You look nice,” Aziraphale murmured sleepily, carding his fingers through the long strands of Crowley’s hair, sending a shiver down his spine. He still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“You look nice too. Your hair’s all fluffed up,” Crowley grinned, deciding that if Aziraphale was going to play with _his_ hair, he should be able to do the same, reaching out to smooth down Aziraphale’s soft blond curls.

“Thank you for everything, Crowley. Last night was…” Aziraphale took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. “It was perfect.”

“It really was. Best birthday ever. Thank you, angel.”

Aziraphale shuffled even closer and tucked his head into the crook of Crowley’s neck, wrapping his arm around him and holding him close.

“Do you think Ligur was right last night? When he said that was the last time we’d be together for your birthday?” Aziraphale mumbled against Crowley’s neck.

“ _All_ of us, probably, yeah. Obviously not you and me though. I hope we’ll always find a way to see each other.”

“We won’t be living together next year, though. I won’t even be in London.”

“Maybe I could come and visit you. Have you put your application form in yet for the PGCE?”

“Yes, a couple of weeks ago. I actually have an interview in Birmingham in a few weeks.”

“Congratulations! That’s brilliant news!” Crowley feigned enthusiasm, his chest aching. He was happy for Aziraphale, but even before the events of last night, knowing that they would probably be living in different places next year weighed heavily on his heart.

“I don’t really want to move away, Crowley, but I can’t afford to keep living in London.” Aziraphale lifted his head back onto the pillow, looking Crowley in the eye. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“It’s ok, we’ll be ok,” Crowley soothed, stroking his thumb over Aziraphale’s shoulder. He felt fucking _incredible_ , so warm and soft and _perfect_. “There’s a train to Birmingham from Euston, I think it only takes a couple of hours.”

“Not on the Silverlink one, which is all we’ll be able to afford. It stops bloody everywhere.”

“It’s ok, angel. It’ll be fine. Aren’t you excited about this?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like it was my dream to become an English teacher but I’ve got to do something, and at least there’s a bursary with it.”

“You keep saying your dream is to open a bookshop, why don’t you just do that instead? You’re an expert by now, right? You’ve been working at Waterstones for ages.”

“It’s not that simple, do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?”

Crowley, in fact, had absolutely _no_ idea how much something like that would cost.

“Couldn’t you get a loan?”

“With no credit history? Besides, what if it all went wrong? I can’t risk it. I need to get a proper job and start saving.”

“Ok, I admit, I don’t know anything about that sort of thing. Just want you to be happy, angel.”

“I’m happy about this,” Aziraphale smiled, intertwining his fingers with Crowley’s. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Yeah, me too.” Crowley shuffled closer on the pillow and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple. “Don’t give up on your dreams though. Trust me, I can see you years from now, living in a cute little cottage in the middle of nowhere absolutely full of tartan blankets, running a cluttered little antique bookshop, with people travelling for miles to benefit from your expertise.”

“That seems unlikely, my dear.”

“You’ll make it happen,” Crowley said confidently, absolutely intending to be there when it did. He would learn about _credit history_ and mortgages and he would get a proper job himself to make sure they could afford it. Maybe people would say he was being naive, that he was too young to be planning out his whole future like that, but Crowley was the only one who could truly know how he felt, and if it was up to him, if Aziraphale didn’t decide he would rather be alone or with someone else, then Crowley had every intention of being with him forever.

“Maybe one day,” Aziraphale smiled.

**11 years ago, 22 nd October 2009**

They stepped down off the bus from St Austell and Crowley grinned as he gazed up at the two giant biomes of the Eden Project.

“I’ve always wanted to come here! Thank you so much!” He grabbed hold of Aziraphale, squeezing him tightly. “You are the best boyfriend ever! I can’t believe you organised all this and actually kept it a secret! You’re amazing! I wouldn’t have been able to keep my big mouth shut! Thank you!”

“It was my pleasure, Crowley. I’ve been reading about it online, it looks wonderful.”

“One of my lecturers talked about this place when I was doing my MSc. They have about five thousand different plant varieties here from all around the world, something like two million plants all together! It’s like a botanist’s _paradise_!”

Crowley was positively twitching with excitement as they queued to get their tickets at the admissions desk. He kept his arm wrapped around Aziraphale, squeezing him tightly against him, needing something to channel all of his excited energy into. He knew he was grinning like crazy and when they reached the end of the queue, the man at the admissions desk gave him a slightly concerned look, but focused most of his attention on Aziraphale as he paid for their tickets and a souvenir guidebook for Crowley. Aziraphale handed the map he had been given to Crowley, who without even looking, immediately insisted on starting with the Tropical Biome. He grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s hand and dragged him along the zig-zagged paths through the outdoor gardens up to the top of the site, where the two giant imposing biomes loomed over them.

“I’m in a fucking _rainforest_!” Crowley announced, lowering his voice slightly so as not to be heard by the people around them. Aziraphale beamed at him and followed along, as Crowley’s eyes darted around the biome, taking in the beautiful foliage around him, plants with huge, bright glossy leaves unlike anything that grew in England. He stopped to read every information panel, and cupped the ripening cocoa pods and coffee beans in his hand, dreaming of one day having his own miniature biome in the form of a heated greenhouse where he could try to grow tropical plants like wild bananas and vanilla.

From the Tropical Biome, they made their way into the Mediterranean Biome, Crowley still buzzing around with excited energy. He stopped to look at every single plant, and every time he turned to check Aziraphale was having a good time, his boyfriend smiled at him as though seeing Crowley happy was the best thing in the world, and Crowley’s heart swelled.

After a thorough exploration of the indoor biomes, they headed into the outdoor gardens, Aziraphale now holding the map and leading the way. He led them up a steep path onto a wall that overlooked the garden, and Crowley rushed ahead, leaning over the edge of the wall, eager to take in the bird’s eye view of the garden.

“Oh wow, check out this _view_!” he beamed, expecting Aziraphale to appear at his side. When he didn’t get a response, Crowley turned around, and his breath caught and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw Aziraphale down on one knee in front of him, holding out a ring, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Crowley... will you marry me?”

“Oh my God!” Crowley blurted out like an idiot, gaping at Aziraphale. “I mean, yes, _yes_! Of course I will! Yes!” Crowley dropped down onto his knees and grabbed hold of Aziraphale, squeezing him as tightly as he possibly could, his heart pounding in his chest. He was trembling and his eyes pricked with tears, completely overwhelmed with joy.

“Would you like to put the ring on?” Aziraphale asked quietly, his voice wavering, and when he pulled back Crowley could see that he had been crying too.

“You do it.” Crowley held out his trembling hand and wiped the tears away from his eyes with the other, watching with awe as Aziraphale tenderly took hold of his hand and slid the ring onto his finger. They beamed at each other, and Crowley pulled Aziraphale into another tight embrace. He never ever ever wanted to let go.

They stayed there kneeling on the wall for quite some time, just holding onto each other, alternating between laughing and crying.

“You’re stuck with me forever, angel. Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever, and ever and ever. For _eternity_.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” Aziraphale smiled.

They kissed and then fell back into each other’s arms, until Crowley heard footsteps approaching and pulled back to look up at the man who had stepped up onto the wall.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked.

“Yeah, amazing! We’re getting married!”

The man chuckled and gave them a friendly smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks!”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale murmured sheepishly.

They watched as the man turned around, heading back down the path, and they both giggled and shared another kiss. Crowley stood up first, holding out his hand to help Aziraphale up.

“Fuck, I’m shaking.” Crowley shook his hands about a bit in front of him, catching sight of his ring again and pressing it to his chest, grinning at Aziraphale. “Right... so... _fiancé_ , what would you like to do now?”

“What would you say to some celebratory cake in the café?” Aziraphale grinned, an adorable little twinkle in his eye.

“Sounds good,” Crowley laughed, before pulling Aziraphale into another hug and kissing him, over and over again. “I love you so much. I want to make you so happy. I want to make all of your dreams come true.”

“Crowley, my love… you already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed following their happy, healthy, loving relationship! :-) I'm soft now!! Thank you for your comments and kudos, I really appreciate them all!


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